


I'll Make an Alpha Out of You

by ring_around_the_daisy



Series: Internal Wars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angel Castiel, Angst, Anxiety, Castiel's Handprint, Demons, Fighting, Heaven, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Movie AU, Mulan AU, Omega Dean Winchester, PTSD, Psychological Torture, Sexism, Soldier Dean, Torture, War, mental problems, omega slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ring_around_the_daisy/pseuds/ring_around_the_daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the war between Heaven and Hell, angels have looked to Earth for additional soldiers for their fight. Specifically, male alphas who have just presented. When Dean's younger brother, Sam, presents as an alpha and gets his draft, Dean takes matters into his own hands. The day before Sam is to be deployed, Dean swipes the documents and his uniform before leaving for the train station where the alpha's are shipped off, only leaving a note behind. His first entrance to the camp is less than graceful highlighted by getting into a fight with a fellow soldier and then trying to take that fight to the leader of the camp, Castiel, an angel with broad black wings and no room for 'pups.' Can Castiel make an alpha out of Dean or will this unruly omega be his own undoing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Draft

Dean was staring down at the documents that were calling for the recently presented alpha, Sam Winchester, to be deployed to training camp to become a soldier for the angel army. The war between heaven and hell was a constant that humans took as being part of life. While it was a blip in time for angels and demons, for humans, it seemed like it had always been there. The draft was the formal name for the slavery of all the able bodied male alphas. Once you presented as an alpha, you were shipped off to camp before going to war.

John, Dean's father, had been an alpha but he'd had a weak heart so he'd been excused from the draft and had been able to lead a family life before his heart attack, a privilege not given to many alphas. Hardly any alphas would make it back from war, only about 30%, so before they left they were required to give a sperm sample for the breeding program so that there was a higher chance of alphas being born to go back into war like a machine. It was basically raising humans like pigs for slaughter which was all the humans were to the angels anyways and everyone knew it.

Dean had expected to be an alpha like his father or at least a beta like his mother. It had been a shock to everyone when he'd presented as an omega at the age of 22. They'd thought he was just going to be a late bloomer but, no, he'd presented at the average age for an omega because they had the most complex reproductive system. Beta's presented first at 12 to 13 since there was nothing unusual about them and alphas presented at 17 to 19 because of the extra testosterone, muscle, and the knot that would form at the base of their penis or, for females, generally a more masculine body which made for square hips. This resulted in alpha female pregnancies being hard to carry to term.

With the paper clenched tightly in his fists, Dean walked towards his brothers room to see him already packing. His lanky form was draped over his suitcase and his mop of hair was hanging down as he folded his clothes into his suitcase as he prepared to leave. Dean could tell that his brothers scent had changed. It was no longer the subtle, milky scent of a child. Now it was musky and heavy, that of a man. His little brother wasn't a man, though. Sam was a kid. No one at 17 was a man. Sammy believed in the Easter bunny till he was 11 and still liked the crusts cut off his sandwiches for Christ sake! That wasn't a man, that wasn't even close.

"Sam?" asked Dean, standing in the doorway with the documents resting against his chest. As an omega, Dean was a bit of an enigma. He was too tall and his voice too low. He was thin and soft enough but even the small bit of noticeable muscle he had was considered too much for an omega. His personality was too sharp, he wasn't submissive, and some had even joked he was an alpha born in an omega's body. The sharp look in his eyes was demonstrating his contradicting characteristics perfectly.

Sam stopped packing and sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I'm guessing you found the papers."

"Kind of hard not to when they were spread out on the counter for me to find. I can see you wasted no time packing. Just eager to go to war, huh? You do know the uniform doesn't come for another week." said Dean, his voice now laced with venom. While Dean was a jack of all trades, the one thing he was horrible at was talking about his emotions. So, rather than be rational in those situations, he decided to lash out with anger as his defense mechanism. 

"I just wanted to be prepared." said Sam, still not turning around to face Dean. While Sam was the alpha in the situation now it was clear he was still submissive to his big brother. Dean was the head of this household, he brought most of the money in and held everything together. Mary was a strong woman but it was hard for beta's to find work since they were the most common class so almost no one wanted to employ them. People liked to see omega's when they walked into a place because of their pretty faces and soft smells. Beta's were neutral, omega's were special.

 "Yeah, prepared to die." said Dean. They both knew that going to war was a death sentence, everyone knew that it was a death sentence. It had always been a death sentence that everyone glorified. You grew up being taught that it was an honor to be chosen to fight in the war, that a warriors death was the most honorable death there was. To reject the war was to bring shame to your family and to the human race as a whole. The angels protected the humans and, in return, we gave them our alphas for the war to help beat back the enemy to keep life going on.

Demons, while not as strong as angels, seemed to multiply and a human soul damned to hell was another soldier for them. It was a never ending battle so humans kept on, always hoping that there would be an end one day but having lost hope a long time ago. The angels had made countless promises that the war was almost over, that they just had to fight one more battle. One more battle, one more battle.

It was always one more battle. 

Complacency had replaced hope and people kept on because they had no other choice. Not Dean, though. He wasn't going to watch his kid brother go off to war to be slaughtered. Sam had had dreams of going to college and being a lawyer. He'd wanted to build his own law firm and reform things and take away a bit of the corruption in the world. Dean wasn't going to just stand by and watch that be taken away for some war machine that would always need fuel.

"I'll be right back." said Dean, folding the documents up and walking towards the garage where his prized car sat. Behind him he could hear the calls of his brother asking what he was planning to do. They fell on deaf ears because he was already pushing the garage door up before starting the car and driving away. The receding form of his brother was seen in the rear view mirror running after the car for a short distance before stopping, shoulders slumped.

Dean directed his car towards the nearest draft center, knowing logically this was a long shot but that he had to try. There was no way he was just going to go belly up without trying anything. That wasn't how Dean Winchester worked. After his dad died, he'd stepped up and become a man before he'd even presented. Now, he'd just have to show the same amount of intelligence and strategy as he had then. It would be hard but if there was one thing Dean was, it was stubborn.

Like he expected, the draft center was crowded as always. He was cramped for space and ended up having to park around the side of the building. He was sure that wasn't a legal parking space but it was out of sight and he honestly didn't give a fuck at the moment. Upon his entrance to the center his senses were practically assaulted with the scent of alpha. It seemed to be saturated into everything and he'd honestly never been anywhere with a scent this heavy. Not even a gym was this bad. While a few alphas could be pleasant to an omega's sense's, this amount was the equivalent of pepper spray.

All eyes turned to Dean as he walked in, his scent immediately distinct among the wall of alpha in the building. Dean raised a hand in an attempt at a nonchalant wave as he felt his eyes watering and he attempted to not gag. He saw there was a line that the alphas were in and then, ahead of them, was a counter that had a thick glass wall with what looked to be beta's on the other side. Smart thinking putting something between hormone ridden alphas and poor desk clerk beta's just trying to do their jobs.

As Dean waited and saw the line getting smaller, he noticed the alpha in front of him kept scenting him. Dean adjusted his posture to signal him to 'back off.' Usually that worked and even most alphas who were looking to get as many fucks in as they could before they were shipped off would leave him alone. This one, though, wasn't getting the hint and had been progressively been moving closer to Dean and giving him once overs. 

It was the hand on Dean's ass that then traveled down to his genitals that made Dean snap. A growl worthy of an alpha ripped itself from his mouth and he ended up kneeing the alpha in the gut before punching him in the throat and throwing him to the side. The whole building went silent, all eyes on him, most with expressions of disbelief at having seen an omega assault an alpha without a weapon of any kind.

Dean didn't have long to revel in his victory, though, because security rushed in and pushed him to the floor and held his hands behind his back. His face was pushed into the floor with his nose now forced to breathe in an even more concentrated alpha perfume. The security standing over him got everyone else to back away until the police got there.

It didn't take long for the hands holding his arms behind his back to be traded for handcuffs as two beta police officers hauled him to his feet and pushed him over to a chair. An ambulance had been called and EMT's were now looking over the injured alpha who looked like he would only be left with bruises and a very hurt ego.

"Son, why did you pick a fight with an alpha?" asked the officer kneeling in front of him. Dean looking at her badge and read that her name was Ellen. Having her close was calming because of the neutral scent she produced. It helped him to focus and the headache that had begun to form from the over stimulation lessened a bit the longer he was in her presence. Unconsciously, he took in another deep breath of her scent before gathering his thoughts.

"He touched me." said Dean, hoping he wouldn't have to go into too much detail about what happened. While he'd accepted being an omega a long time ago, he still refused to think about the fact that he, as well as having a penis, had a male vagina to compensate for the reproductive system. It was still too weird for him to think about and he only ever touched himself there when it came to hygiene. Thankfully, unlike his female counterparts, he didn't go through a menstrual cycle but that was mostly because since the male omega's reproductive organs were packed so tightly together, the uterus usually stayed pretty compact until pregnancy when everything would expand and rearrange itself naturally. Still, that was also why male omega pregnancy's were higher risk.

"He touched you?" Officer Ellen, an eyebrow raised. It was clear she was going to need some more information to go on here. 'He touched me' wasn't exactly a reason to deck someone.

"He  _touched_ me." said Dean, putting more emphasis in his words paired with a harder expression on his face. When a look of understanding came over the officers face, he knew he'd gotten his point across thoroughly now.

"Okay, kid." said Officer Ellen who was already grabbing her keys to unlock the cuffs holding Dean's hands behind his back.

"Hey, what are you doin'? Aren't you gonna charge him?" came an outraged cry from across the room. It was the injured alpha who had apparently been watching the exchange going on between the two.

"No, I'm not. You should feel lucky I'm not charging you with sexual assault. Now shut your trap and count your blessings. I could always change my mind." said Ellen, unlocking the cuffs and then waving them at the alpha who blanched slightly. It had been rumored that if you went into the ranks with a record, the angels would dole out their own punishment and it would be equivalent to the crime, or at least it would be in their eyes. 

Dean rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had been digging in and looked around, seeing that the line had been scattered. The beta's behind the glass wall were all technically free so, if he was persuasive enough, maybe he could talk his way into a meeting with someone. Standing up slowly, he inched his way around the crowd before walking up to a beta in the first booth and tapping the glass softly. The woman with mousy brown hair and light brown eyes jumped before looking up at his face and relaxing. Being able to put people at ease with your very presence was a good perk of being an omega, he could admit that much.

"Hi. My name is Dean Winchester. I have documents for my brother Sam. I was wondering if I could talk to someone about the draft." said Dean, leaning close to where the speaker was so she would be sure to hear him. The pitying look in her eyes wasn't one he wanted to see, it told him that she'd seen this sort of thing before. Still not enough to make Dean tuck tail and go home, though. He would see this insane plan to the end.

"Well, Mr. Crowley just got off lunch. You can talk with him. Down that hallway, three doors to the right." said the woman before pressing a button that unlocked the door.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." said Dean as he went towards the door even though he knew she couldn't hear him. He walked past it and made sure to shut it behind him, effectively silencing the still noisy happenings of the lobby. The hallway had a sterile smell, much different than the alpha drenched stench of the front of the building. It wasn't pleasant but it was certainly a step up. After rolling his shoulders in a sort of preparation for the inevitable, he walked down the hallway three doors to the right where he saw a name card of Crowley beside a wooden door.

"Let's get this over with." said Dean under his breath before stepping forward and knocking on the door. From inside he heard a bored British voice telling him to come in.

 Dean opened the door and stepped inside to see a slightly balding man in an expensive suit hunched over a desk. His papers were all over the place yet it seemed that was exactly the way he wanted it. The whole time Dean opened the door and walked into the room, the man didn't look up from what he was doing. He simply muttered under his breath and jotted notes down on various sheets of paper within arms reach. Really, it seemed like he didn't see Dean at all which was pretty unnerving. Finally, Dean cleared his throat in an effort to get the mans attention.

"I'm aware that you're here. What I'm not aware of is why you're wasting my time." said Crowley, eyes still not looking up at Dean and his voice sounding like he was confirming a lunch order.

"I'm here to talk about trading my brother for myself in the draft." said Dean as he straightened himself to his full height to make himself look as big as he could.

"Are you joking? You want to go into the war? You're an omega, kid. You wouldn't cut it." said Crowley, finally looking up at Dean and setting his pen down.

"I'm sure I could surprise you. My brother won't last a day out there. He's just a kid. Hell, he believed in the Easter bunny till he was 11 and likes the crusts cut off his sandwiches. He can't do it but I can." said Dean as he walked forward to plead his case.

"Well, you are very unusual looking for an omega. Can't say I've ever seen one as tall or muscled as you. Still, you're puny compared to the average alpha. And, even if I could switch you out, why should I? It doesn't benefit me in any way." said Crowley, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. An eyebrow was raised up now in an expression that was just asking to be challenged. Dean could smell alpha on the businessman and figured he conned his way out of the draft when he was younger. That was the only way he could be sitting here now.

"My brother is brilliant, he wants to be a lawyer. There is so much he wants to do with his life. Send me in so he can still have a chance at that." pleaded Dean in a last ditch effort, not even ashamed at this point that he was begging a slimeball like Crowley.

"No. Now get out of here before I have the police actually arrest you." said Crowley, going back to his paperwork with Dean no longer registering any significance to him.

"You heartless son of a bitch." muttered Dean before leaving the office and stepping back into the hallway. The sterile smell greeted him again and was a sharp contrast from the subtle smell he'd just walked away from. Looking down the hallway, he saw a door to the outside and he went that way since he wanted to get out of the building as soon as possible. The sight of a tow truck hooking itself up to his baby was not the thing he had been hoping to see when he rounded the corner of the building though. 

He was out of breath by the time he ran up to the truck, waving to get the drivers attention. "Why...why are you towing my car?" The driver simply tore off a ticket and gave it to him. Dean read the ticket which said 'illegal parking'. "Come on, man. Can you cut me a break? There weren't any spots open." The driver simply shrugged before climbing into his truck and leaning out the window. "Sorry, kid. I don't make the rules. Pay the ticket and you'll get your car back."

The ticket in question ended up crumpled in his fist as his shoulders sagged heavily. Knowing he was in between bus times and not having the patience to wait for one, he started the long walk home. If nothing else it would give him time to think about how else he could get Sam out of going to war. The kid wasn't...he just wasn't ready.

 When he got home, all he had to show for his time at the draft office was a pair of sore feet and a headache as well as a hefty fine. The house that greeted him was dark so he suspected everyone else had gone to bed by now or they were just huddled in the living room with no other lights on. That had become a common habit in the time between his dad dying and when Dean was finally able to get a decent paying job. Save every penny you can so that you might have enough for what you need.

While they no longer needed to really do that, it stuck since they were always paranoid that something would happen to send them into complete poverty again. 

Dean unlocked the front door and stepped inside, locking it fully behind them. They may be better off now but deadbolts still felt like a huge necessity. His mind didn't have much time to enjoy the solid click of the locks before a slim but strong hand was dragging him into the kitchen. The light flicked on and momentarily blinded him, giving the hand the opportunity to hit him. He knew it was his mom. Sam had probably told her about him running off after seeing the documents and this was the start of a talk. She always liked to start them off with shock value.

"Dean Winchester, just what did you think you were doing? Sam calls me at work, a job which I've only had for a week, and tells me that you're running off to the nearest draft office! And then I hear on the news about a 'rogue omega assaulting a young alpha at a draft center.' What are you trying to do, Dean? Give me a heart attack?" said Mary in a whisper yell. Dean figured Sam was asleep so that was why she was wanting to keep it down. "Why didn't you come in through the garage? Where's the car?"

With a guilty look, Dean rubbed the back of his neck and looked down towards his feet. "It got towed at the draft center. They said I parked illegally but there weren't any open spots. Here's the ticket." He gave her the crumpled piece of paper, knowing there was no use in arguing his case further. His mom was just as stubborn as he was so it wouldn't do any good. Another smack on his shoulder told him exactly what his mom thought about the ticket.

"$200, Dean? Seriously? You're supposed to be a man and right now you're acting like a pup." said Mary, crossing her arms and giving him a slightly defeated look. "I know this is hard. This is hard for me to. I don't want to lose Sammy any more than you do. But, Dean, don't make me lose both of my sons." 

"Yeah, okay mom. I promise you won't lose both of us." Dean took a step forward and hugged her. While he knew in the hug he was supposed to be comforting her, he ended up burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent. It was familiar and spoke of warmth, and home, and love. "I love you, mom."

"I love you, too sweetie." said Mary, her arms staying tightly wrapped around her son. Neither of them showed any signs of moving for a long time.


	2. Going to War

When the war uniform arrives, Dean doesn't see it until it's on Sam. His brother is in the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror with a serious look on his face. At 17, Sam was now the same height as Dean and it was common for them to swap jeans though Sam's were usually a bit looser around the hips which Dean compensated for with a belt. It was obvious that Sam would soon surpass Dean in height and fill out into a broad alpha. If he ever got the chance, that is.

"It looks good on you." said Dean, a plan already starting to form in his mind. He and his brother had reached a small stage where they could wear the same clothes. That meant the uniform would fit Dean, it would just be a bit looser. The documents for Sam were still in the kitchen so he could easily get them. His clothes could go in a duffel bag and he could get to the train station tomorrow morning. He would need to alter his appearance slightly, he knew that. For his job, he had his hair longer and would comb it back since that played into him having a more feminine appearance and it was pleasing to the eye. He hated that he had to make himself look feminine just to earn money but that's how things were. No one would want to employ an omega who looked too masculine and he was cutting it close with his voice and natural muscle.

"Thanks." said Sam, still staring at himself in the mirror. There was a far away look in his eyes that said he wasn't really there with you. It was obvious he'd been standing there for a while from the imprints he'd made in the small rug that was kept in the bathroom by his sock covered feet. Tomorrow morning, he'd have breakfast before going to the train station to be shipped off for war. The last week had been spent doing Sam's favorite things. While no one had outright said it, they all knew it was because he would most likely never come back from war. The alpha's that did come back, though, were changed so they were saying goodbye to this Sam. The innocent Sam.

"Mom says dinner is ready. Veggie stir fry with peas and carrots and a salad." said Dean. While Dean usually moaned and groaned about eating vegetables, he knew he would eat a field of them for Sam. If this was potentially Sam's last dinner with them then he was going to eat everything. Sam deserved to be a health nut for one more night before going out into the unknown. 

Dinner is silent, the most noise coming from forks scraping across plates. Mary tried to start a conversation like they usually had but only got one word answers out of both of her sons so she stopped trying. The weight of tomorrow was weighing too heavily on all of them to even pretend to be a happy family for one last night. After dishes were done, everyone dispersed to their respective rooms for the night and the house went dark.

Dean lay awake in bed for a few hours just staring at the ceiling. His mind was playing horrible images of Sam getting slaughtered in war, each one getting progressively worse. Finally, he can't take it anymore so he gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen for some water. There, on the counter, are the documents set out neatly for Sam to take with him tomorrow when he gets deployed. The crazy idea he had while looking at Sam in his uniform floated into his head again and now, with the final hour approaching, it didn't seem so crazy anymore. 

Dean picked up the documents and read them over for the first time and found an amazing loophole. They didn't call for Sam specifically, they addressed the Winchester family saying that an alpha male had come of age and would go to war. That was why there were so many draft centers! You had to actually register your name into the system. If Dean just took the documents and gave a name, he could possibly get away with being the just come of age alpha of the Winchester family. 

With new hope in his heart, he folded the documents up and went back to his room where he started packing clothes into his duffel bag. The documents were stuffed inside and then came the hard part of swiping the uniform. Looking inside his brothers room, he saw the whole thing, boots and all, resting on his desk chair while the brother in question slept soundly in his bed. Knowing he only had one shot at swiping this thing, Dean slowly eased the door open and walked inside, thankful that they had carpet instead of wooden floors.

He was starting to pick up the items from the desk when he heard Sam switch positions. He froze and looked behind him only to see his brother tangled up in blankets like usual. With all the items held tightly in his arms, he made his way out of the room but faltered halfway through when he seemed to run into an invisible wall only his nose could see.  _"Fucking hell, Sam."_ said Dean under his breath as he tried not to gag. Well, at least his brother would live to bring toxic fumes into another day.

It wasn't until he was in the bathroom that he allowed himself to take in deep lungfuls of air that he'd been holding in. "That kid needs to take something. That stuff is deadly." said Dean softly before looking down at the uniform. It got laid to the side while he got the electric razor out that he used to give Sam haircuts. It would be used for him now. After plugging it in, Dean took a deep breath before turning it on and getting to work. 

By the time he was done it seemed like he'd put his whole head of hair into the sink but a look into the mirror showed that he hadn't. Now, he had the same short and clean cut that Sam did and it was a new look for him. He hadn't had hair this short since he was a little kid and that was a frigging bowl cut which was never flattering. This haircut actually accentuated the fact that he was, indeed, a man which was nice. With a smile on his face, Dean ran his hand over his hair to feel it. More loose strands floated down as he did which left room for his hair to spike up. "I could actually pull this off..."

 The hair forgotten, he grabbed the uniform and went to his room, being sure to flick the light off on his way out. He didn't need to be caught for something as stupid as leaving a light on. In his room, he stripped down to his boxers before putting his lamp on. One thing he rarely looked at was his chest because of the slight drooping curve it had despite the fact that he was well muscled and fairly thin. It was another omega trait, meant to make producing milk after giving birth easier. To him, they just looked odd and like they didn't really belong. So, for that reason, he used chest binders a lot to give himself a flatter appearance and wore them everywhere. At the very least, they made him feel better about himself.

It seemed that now they'd be serving a purpose other than purely for his self esteem. They'd help to keep him hidden among the alphas he'd be infiltrating in that boot camp. Knowing the one he was currently wearing was sweaty and gross from being worn all day, he took it off before wrapping a new one around his chest. After that, the uniform went on and he could feel the weight of it. There were a lot of layers and he was sure he wouldn't have to wear them all while working out. The full thing was probably for battle and formality for when he would enter the camp.

After making sure everything was on properly, he grabbed his duffel bag and started down the hall. He was about to just take his keys and get in his car when he caught sight of the fridge which was taped with notes. Since only Sam seemed to be savvy in technology, they'd all gotten in a habit of taping notes on the fridge for important events or to tell each other where they would be and things like that. Sighing, Dean walked into the kitchen and tore a new piece of paper off of the pad on the counter and began writing. It got stuck on top of all the other notes before he went to the garage and stood before it.

He knew that once he started opening it, he had about a minute, maybe two at most, to make his escape before they came running for him. His things were already in the trunk of the impala and he'd told them where to find her when morning came and public transport opened up. After taking a deep breath, he flipped the lock and started to heave the heavy door up. It was hard normally but even more so now under the weight of the uniform. Noise from inside the house told him that he'd woken Sam and his mom up so he was now counting down the seconds in his head.

He pushed the door up only as high as he needed to before hopping in the car and starting it. From the rear view mirror he could see the house door opening to reveal two figures in night clothes. Not wanting to leave any time for one of them to open a car door, he slammed his foot on the gas pedal and sped down the driveway and out of the neighborhood. It wasn't until he was halfway to the train station that he let his heart slow down a bit. He'd just done that, he'd really just fucking done that.

Still, he wasn't out of the woods yet. Really, that was the easy part. He slowed his speed down and calmed his posture so no one would pull him over out of suspicion. He didn't know what the punishment was for impersonating a soldier but he figured it wouldn't be pretty. 

The drive was spent in silence while Dean tried to keep a clear head, just thinking that he'd saved his brother. He did his best to swallow his fear about the fact that now he was going to war. He didn't regret it, he would make the same decision in a heartbeat, but that didn't mean it didn't scare him shitless to think about what he'd see and do out there. Most likely, he wouldn't come back but Sam could now live the life he wanted to. He'd filled Sam's role and they couldn't go back on that because, technically, a Winchester was in war.

 When he reached the station, it was mostly deserted like he expected. A few other cars were there, probably from others wanting to be there early for their own reasons. Dean parked his car and left the keys in the glove box, knowing Sam would know where to look. His boots echoed on the pavement as he made his way closer and closer to the bench where he would be waiting. Other alphas were dispersed, none of them noticing the omega in their midst thanks to Sam's scent still saturating the uniform. Living in a camp of alphas would make Dean's smell invisible but, for right now, this was a decent enough disguise.

None of them said anything as more alpha's filed in as the sun began to rise. Almost too soon it was boarding time and they were all being herded onto the train like a bunch of cattle. He supposed that's what they were now. A bunch of cattle to be trained and sent into a war machine. Once he stepped on this train, it was all over and Dean knew it. Even with all of that in mind he didn't hesitate in taking that step since Sam's face was what popped up. He was doing this for Sammy.


	3. No Room for Pups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, guys! I didn't expect this big of a response to the story! Wow! This is amazing! I really hope I end up living up to everyone's expectations with this.

Dean settled into his seat and hunched his shoulders, wanting to hide his face as much as he could. He hadn't been accepted as one of them yet, not unconditionally at least, so he needed to blend in as much as possible. He huddled into a corner and the seat was quickly packed with two others who didn't seem to mind taking up the majority of the room on it. They had the traditional alpha scent and a look at their faces said their personalities wouldn't be much different. Since Dean's interactions with alpha's had never really stemmed past hormone driven teenagers or war hardened veterans, his opinion of them wasn't the highest. Generally, he considered them slow and a slave to their testosterone. Sam, of course, would be the exception. That kid could do anything.

The ride to the next leg of their journey was unpleasant, filled with loud conversations and general alpha antics. Whatever reluctance they'd been feeling about the war seemed to have melted away once they got on the train. All Dean could hear was them talking about how many demons they would kill and several young alphas saying that they would be the one to end the long war. Personally, Dean would be happy with making it through his term alive with as much of his mental state intact as he could. No one really knew what happened at the camps since the small number of veterans that came home never wanted to talk about it. So, it remained a mystery that kept these boys excited now that the moment was near.

Somewhere along the way, Dean ended up falling asleep to the rhythmic clacking along the tracks. When they arrived, one of his seatmates let him know with a nice shove that nearly had him falling out of his seat. Grumbling under his breath, Dean got up and fell into the line among the bodies of others as they rushed to get off the train. While he met the height requirement for an alpha, it was getting clear that he was scrawny compared to most of them and it was mostly their momentum that was pushing him forward rather than his own feet.

Outside it looked like they were in the middle of nowhere, the tracks going in a big loop before heading in the opposite direction. A bit of the bravado all the males had been feeling earlier started wearing off a bit as they stood there waiting for something to happen. Several minutes passed by before the flapping of wings was heard and a man with a bald head and a business suit was in front of them. He looked like all the slimy businessmen and lawyers back home except for the pair of white wings that extended from his back that were held with pride.

So, this was an angel.

"Ah, excellent. The new recruits are here. My name is Zachariah and I'll be taking you where you need to be. Follow me, please." That was the only instruction they got before the man turned around and started walking into the void in front of them at a brisk pace. A few moments passed by before any of the alphas registered the command and followed, still confused by where they were and not knowing what was going to happen next. 

The walk lasted a long time, Dean had to guess miles. There were whispers among the alphas but Dean kept his mouth shut, more focused on trying to figure out where they were going. When the angel held up a hand for them to stop, it was so sudden that those in the front dug their heels into the dirt which caused those behind them to run into their backs. Some people fell over while others clutched at fellow alphas to keep their footing. While that would normally be grounds for an argument at least, now, the rules were slightly bent for different circumstances.

"Stay there while you're transferred to heaven." said Zachariah as he stepped aside. 

A circle in the dirt started to light up around them and if you looked down, you could see parts of symbols. Over the surprised voices, Zachariah was chanting a spell and the more words he said, the brighter it got around them and ringing sounded in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears until he suddenly felt everything stop. Hesitantly, he opened one eye and after images of the light kept flashing before him. His ears were still ringing and he felt dizzy and nauseous, like he wanted to throw up the entire contents of his body. It seemed he wasn't the only one since as he stumbled out of the herd and bent over to dry heave as there were similar sounds reaching his ears. 

It took a long while for the uncomfortable feelings to fade and for him to get his bearings back. Once he was able to right himself again, he could see Zachariah standing at the edge of the crowd of alphas with an impatient look on his face. It was clear he didn't care that they all felt like they'd just been inside a tornado and spit out. With wobbly legs, Dean walked back over to the others since he didn't want to single himself out. If he stayed hidden with everyone else there was less chance anyone would figure out that there was an impostor among them.

"Great. The camp is this way," said Zachariah with a gesture as he started walking again. In the distance, Dean could vaguely see what he was talking about. "As you can see, this part of heaven greatly resembles Earth. This is to make living and training easier while being in a space where we can still manipulate our surroundings to what we need. You will be the property of heaven, for most of you, for the rest of your lives. For the small percentage that manage to make it back home, you're stuck with us for ten Earth years. Five years will be spent training and you will die during this rigorous course if you do not take things seriously. Many alphas with potential have died from sheer arrogance during exercises. Finally, once you are fully trained you will go to war. If you make it the full five years in war you will go home with honors and the rest will be history. Now, welcome to your new home."

Dean stepped through the entrance to the camp along with everyone else and looked around. It honestly didn't look that impressive. There were rows of small cabins which he assumed would be their quarters and various other buildings laid out that served functions he was sure he'd learn of soon enough. The angel that had already begun to make his skin crawl left them alone and the others began talking among themselves. For the most part, Dean tuned out until he heard a conversation about Omega's. 

"Oh, yeah man. I fucked so many omega bitches before I came here. It was awesome. May have even knocked one up. All they're good for anyway, am I right?" said the faceless alpha with pride in his voice.

Dean's blood started to boil at that comment. As a male omega, he'd been told more than once that his only purpose was to carry children by rough alphas. It always made him want to snap but he couldn't, he had to hold it together like a good little omega. He had to keep up his appearance so he could keep face and keep his job and hold his life together for his mom and Sammy. Now, though, he was in the middle of a war camp in heaven. Now, he had nothing to lose if he decided to try and beat the crap out of this alpha.

So, with that in mind, Dean walked over, tapped the guy on the shoulder, and when the guy turned around, punched him in the face. Commotion, of course, was set off when Dean did this and it didn't take long for the young alpha to retaliate. What Dean lacked in muscle on this kid he had in speed. It was a full blown fist fight when he felt someone grabbing him by the back of his shirt and lifting him off the ground. "What the hell? Put me the fuck down, asshole!"

"Not when you're acting like a pup." came a gravelly voice that sounded more frustrated than outright angry with Dean's behavior. The person holding him transferred Dean to his other hand so he could see his face. Blue eyes were squinted at Dean and a strong jaw was clenched tightly. It was clear this guy meant business. "I will not tolerate this behavior in my camp, understand? If this is how you intend to behave then I can find other uses for you. Believe me, you will not like them. Are we clear?"

Dean blinked twice before nodding, trying his best not to curl into himself like instinct was telling him. The staring contest between Dean and the person holding him lasted a few more seconds before he was dropped and he landed on his ass. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off before taking a step back. A glance told him that the person in front of him was, indeed, another angel. This one was just much more impressive with fucking huge black wings and a 'don't fuck with me' attitude.

"What's your name?" asked the angel, snapping Dean out of his train of thought.

"What?" asked Dean, confused for a second. "Oh, my name. Uh...it's Winchester....Freddie Winchester." Internally he was cringing because it didn't flow at all but Freddie Mercury was the first thing that had popped into his head and fallen out of his mouth. "Yeah, Freddie Winchester."

"Alright, Freddie Winchester." said Castiel before taking a step back, "Listen up everyone. Because of your friend Freddie here, your training starts right now. I want everyone to give me 100 push ups and don't take any of that gear off. I'm going to tell you this only once so remember it well. When one of you does something to get punished, you all get punished. Maybe that will be an incentive for good behavior."

Dean could feel the glares on him as everyone got into a push up position and started the exercise. With a sigh, Dean got down on the ground and began the punishment. During the first ten he was fine, at twenty he could feel a strain in his muscles, at fifty he wanted to give up, at eighty he felt close to death, and at a hundred he couldn't feel his arms. This was only day one of five years and he already felt a slight pang of regret at having signed up for this. 

He stayed face down on the grass until he felt someone tugging at his arms. With no real strength left, he let them pull him up and he looked over to see a kid that looked older than he probably was with a slight beard and neat blond hair. "Hey. Here to punch me?" asked Dean. He wouldn't blame the guy since he'd just subjected everyone to a hundred push ups. 

"No, I'm here to make sure you don't spend the rest of the day with your head buried in the dirt." said the guy with a heavy Louisiana accent. "Come on, let's get you some water, Fred." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a disclaimer that I spend 4 out of 5 days at college and my college's wifi has suddenly decided it doesn't like this site. My writing is now done before bed, on Friday's, and weekends and that's if things don't come up. Updates will, hopefully, stay at about one a week since I want to make them good sized chapters and be able to edit them as well.


	4. Not All It's Cracked Up To Be

Dean was looking up at the two pillars in front of him that stretched up into the sky. Jutting out from their sides were platforms of varying sizes and it looked like you were supposed to go in between the pillars to get to the platforms and even use the pillars themselves to reach the goal which was to get to the top. All in all, it looked impossible. Still, arrogant alphas were eagerly lined up to give it a shot, wanting to prove how superior they were to the rest of the soldiers in the camp. The only thoughts in Dean's head, however, were of how he could prevent himself from breaking his neck on the first day.

"Your goal is to reach the top of one of the pillars. When you do, you will find a rope and you are to use that to climb down. If you end up falling on your way up the pillars then, since it is your first day, you will be caught and sent to an alternative assignment. I don't expect many, if any, of you to reach the final goal." said Castiel as he stepped up to standing in front of the two pillars with his wings rising in a proud display. "Begin." He pointed to the first one in the group and gave them a light push towards the two pillars.

The alpha walked over to it confidently and hopped up onto the first platform. Everyone else watched in silence, seeing the alpha's bravado quickly fade away as the exertion of the task took hold. Less than halfway up, the kid lost his hold on a jump and fell. True to his word, though, Castiel caught him and put him on his feet before sending him off to the 'alternate assignment.' That turned out to be counting blades of grass, a tedious task that could drive you insane with its pointlessness.

One by one, the alphas stepped up and tried to get to the top of the pillars. Some got closer than others but no one reached the top. The crowd dwindled until it came down to Dean who had been intentionally hiding behind others in an effort to put off his time to take on the pillars. Eventually, though, Dean had to face the music, or in this case, the pillars.

After swallowing the lump in his throat, he hopped up on the first pillar and started going through what he'd seen the others do. He got about as far as they all did before he lost his grip and fell, feeling the air rush past his body before strong arms caught him. He was only in their hold for a second or two before he was being set back on the ground and being nudged to where everyone else was counting blades of grass with a look of boredom on their faces.

The rest of the days exercises, which no one succeeded at, included working with the angelic swords and beginners hand to hand combat. The angelic swords only succeeded in a lot of injuries which were healed by angels and the combat gave a lot of bruises and embarrassment. At the end of the day, Dean dragged his sore body back to his cabin with hopes of a shower and a good nights sleep.

His roommate, thankfully, wasn't a total ass. He actually ended up being the guy who pulled his face out of the dirt to get him water and he had learned his name was Benny. They'd talked a bit but generally kept to themselves which Dean was fine with since the less people knew about him, the better. It wasn't until he'd finished his shower and gotten in his pajamas for the night that he realized how stupid it was of him to think he could keep his act up for even a whole day. 

Dean was about to climb into bed when he heard Benny sniffing the air and he froze. He knew what that kind of sniff was. It meant an alpha had found something they liked and they were going to find the source. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps started as Benny traced everywhere Dean had been in the cabin before stopping right behind him. At this point, Dean's eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were balled into fists. He hadn't even been here long enough to make a dent into the time you needed to serve and this alpha was going to blow his cover and ruin everything for him.

"So, any reason for this elaborate form of suicide or do you just like smelling like an Omega?" came the thick accent from only a few feet behind Dean.

Dean's shoulders slumped and he turned around to face his room mate since there was no use hiding from him. "Fine, you caught me. I snuck in. Happy?" 

"More curious. Why?" asked Benny as he loosely crossed his arms and shifted his weight.

"My brother was going to be sent here instead and he isn't cut out for this sort of thing. He's just a kid and he doesn't need to be fucked up by war. So, I traded him for me." said Dean, drawing himself up to his full height in an effort to make himself look less pathetic. A habit that he'd never grown out of, one he was glad he'd never grown out of, was that of puffing himself up. It was an alpha habit, one his dad had taught him before he died since he'd been so sure Dean would be an alpha when he presented. While he missed his father he was somewhat glad he'd had his heart attack before he would have the shame of seeing his oldest son be an omega instead of the alpha he'd been raising him to be. "So, gonna turn me in to the angels?"

"No, don't have a reason to. You're a decent guy. I will say one thing, though. You need to work on your scent a lot. It's too pure right now. If you go out tomorrow with that, everything is over." said Benny with a faint smile on his face.

"Okay. Well, any suggestions, oh smart alpha?" said Dean sarcastically now that he knew Benny was at least partially on his side.

"Scent mixing. I know it sounds gross but, in theory, if you get the scent of my dirty clothes on you, you should be good to go brother." said Benny, now definitely trying to bite back laughter since he knew how undesirable that sounded.

"Oh, son of a-" said Dean before sighing. "Fine. If it doesn't get me kicked out and hung by my thumbs, I'll do it. No underwear, though. That's where I draw the line."

"Wouldn't dream of crossing it." said Benny, his hands up as he walked backwards towards his bed, the smile now full blown.

"The things I do..." muttered Dean as he pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed inside to lay down.

 The next day started out much like the first had only it included rubbing the other alpha's dirty laundry over himself to ensure that it would create a dull enough smell that he wouldn't get picked out immediately as an omega. Breakfast came and went and they were all faced with the pillars of doom as Dean had nicknamed them in his head. Like yesterday, Dean waited for everyone else to take their turn before he reluctantly stepped up and began his climb. He made it less than halfway up before he fell and was caught, once again, by Castiel. Then, he was sent off to count blades of grass until they went onto sword play and hand to hand combat.

This pattern repeated day after day for months and Dean watched as his peers improved, getting up the pillars, being able to use the swords without injury, and becoming skilled fighters. All the while, he struggled to just get through each day. He'd gained more muscle simply through the constant work out but his skill just wasn't coming along and he could feel Castiel's impatience with him. On the first day of the sixth month, before he could even get in line for the pillar climb, Castiel was taking him aside with a grim look on his face.

Once they were out of ear short from anyone else, the angel turned to him and began talking. "Look, Freddie, all of your peers are improving at the rate they need to be while you have stayed at the bottom consistently. After six months you are supposed to have improved significantly from when you first came into the camp but your have hardly budged. I don't think you're cut out for the war or to be a soldier. Still, we will be able to find another way for you to serve Heaven's army that's just as useful. You'll be leaving the camp tomorrow."

Dean stood there, stunned, because he hadn't expected to be told that. He knew he was a sucky soldier, everyone could see that. He was trying, though. He was trying so hard but he would just get to a limit where it was too much for him. An alternate assignment though....that just had death written all over it. He wanted to make it through this thing alive and going into an unknown 'alternate assignment' was not the way to do that.

"You are excused from today's activities since they no longer concern you." said Castiel before walking off to join the group of alpha's who were waiting on him.

Castiel's words played over and over in Dean's head as he sat in his cabin, trying to figure out a way to prevent himself from being shipped off. He'd prevented Sammy from getting here so surely he could find a way to stay. 

"Screw this. I'm joining them whether they want me or not." said Dean as he stood up and stormed out of the cabin, the door slamming behind him. With anger and determination coursing through his veins, he made his way to the pillars and pushed away the alpha who was stepping up to start their climb. Before they could even protest, Dean was jumping up and going through his motions. Like always, he fell off at his same spot and felt Castiel catch him. Instead of going off to count grass this time, though, Dean just jumped up and started again even though there were protests from his peers who wants to get things moving along.

This time, when Dean got to the spot he usually fell off of, he took a chance to look at things harder and think back to what the others did who had been able to get up the wall before him. They'd all used pure strength to pull themselves up and he didn't have that so he'd have to do something different. Things were making sense now. The way up this wall for him wasn't through how strong he was, it was through how well he could strategize and use everything to his advantage.

With this new mindset he started to see things in the walls that he hadn't noticed before. There were small foot holds that were placed just right and no one had ever used them, instead opting to either jump from platform to platform or pull themselves up from one. These footholds would make it so much easier to get from platform to platform and help him conserve energy so he could get to the top and then get down with the rope.

Knowing this was his last shot to prove himself, Dean carefully used the footholds and made his way up. Anger at Castiel kept pushing him forward and images of Sam, the person he'd done this whole thing for, gave him a level head so he wouldn't make a stupid decision in an effort to show off. When he reached the top and looked down at the alphas and the angel with the open mouth, a fierce feeling of satisfaction raced through him. "I'm Dean fucking Winchester and I am a soldier." These words were said only to himself but that was enough for right now.


	5. A Long Way to Go

Dean let the high of having finally made it up the pillars wear off before he went to size up the ropes. It was only now that he was able to take in just how high up he really was. Heights generally weren't Dean's strong suit but he knew if he washed out now with this, again, it would just show he wasn't cut out for war like Castiel had said. Besides the height factor, the thing Dean was most concerned about with the rope was it rubbing his hands raw to the point where he would just reflexively let go. It was as he was thinking this that he wiggled a few of his toes in his right boot, putting the fact that he had socks on to the front of his mind.

Socks. He could use his socks like gloves so he could get down the rope without letting it go. Quickly, he undid his laces and kicked his shoes off. Knowing that wearing combat boots without socks, even for a short period of time, would be horrible, he kicked them over the side to land on the ground before putting the socks over his hands. The rope felt thick and heavy in his hands but it didn't bite into him and it turned out that being barefoot was actually an advantage. It allowed him to cling to the rope more when he needed to reposition his hands and to make sure his legs and feet were completely tangled into the rope. His climb down the rope wasn't as fast as he'd seen the others do but it was more stable and he didn't feel like he needed to ice his hands once his feet touched the grass which was a fair compromise for him.

After letting the rope go, Dean took the socks off his hands and approached Castiel. "I respectfully ask for a second chance to show that I am, indeed, a soldier and cut out for war." Dean's voice was as steady as he could keep it after his trek but his gaze didn't waver and neither did his stance. His shoulders were squared and he was drawn up to his full height which ended up being just a few inches taller than the angel. A field of dominance rolled around them as they silently faced off, Castiel's wings rising in response to Dean's challenge.

Castiel's wings rose and spread out as far as they could go, all signs of his body language telling Dean to back down. In response, Dean just puffed his chest and tried to make himself look bigger in his own way since he didn't have wings to make the same display. The face off continued until Castiel spoke, his words the only indicator that anything had changed.

"Fine, Winchester. You have one more chance. Just know that's the only chance you have for 4 and 1/2 years. Don't waste it." said Castiel before walking away, wings still raised in a show of pride. From what Dean could see, the angel disappeared to his quarters to possibly cool off.

A few seconds of silence was around everyone left by the pillars before the young alpha's erupted in applause. They were cheering and clapping Dean on the back, telling him how 'awesome it was that he'd stood up to one of them.' The mini celebration lasted for a few minutes and Dean smiled, soaking up the praise since it had been a while since anyone had told him he'd done something right. Off to the side he could see his friend, Benny, laughing at the amount of fawning that people were doing over Dean.

 Dean went with his peers to the sword fighting exercises. Everyday they were told to choose a partner to do the new exercise with before spending the rest of the lesson in a 'duel' to put the exercise into use. This time, though, before Dean could even start to try and find anyone he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Huh?" A look over his shoulder told him it was Castiel who had stopped him. "Come on, you gave me a second chance. Do angels go back on their word or something?"

"No, we're very honest. However, since I want to keep very close track of your progress from now on, I will be your partner for these exercises." said Castiel, a shining blade in his right hand which he lifted for emphasis. 

"Oh, I feel so special." said Dean, unable to resist a chance to make a smart ass remark. The past six months he'd spent here had been showing a timid side of him and it was nice to be able to let a little bit of his true self peek out. The fact that Castiel seemed to get offended so easily made it that much more fun to do.

"Careful, boy. You've made it up the pillars once, don't let that inflate your ego." said Castiel as he pushed the blade against Dean's chest. The blade's tip made a small hole in the fabric and Dean quickly stepped back, not wanting it to go further and pierce the binding over his chest. The warning was clear and it had Dean shutting up, his brief show of smart-assery put to a stop for the moment.

"Today we will be going over how to disarm your opponents. I will first go through the move step by step before demonstrating with Freddie here. While this is a simple move, it needs to be done swiftly to be successful. Once my demonstration is over you will all practice with your partners until I feel that you have gotten a good hold on the movement." said Castiel after getting everyone's attention. He gave Dean only a second to process the fact that he was now a prop in the lesson before pulling him over for everyone to see and handing him the sword.

"Okay, there are several ways to complete this move. You can come at the person from the front like this by grabbing their wrists and raising their arms above their head." said Castiel, doing the move in slow motion. "You can also lock their arms behind their back." As he was saying this, Dean's arms were pinned painfully behind his back and he grunted at the sensation since he could swear his shoulders were popping. "You can put them in a full headlock." Dean's eyes bulged when he heard this and he reflexively started clawing at Castiel's arm but it did little to help him, the angel holding him as easily as you would a stuffed toy. "And finally, you can throw them to the ground, plant your foot on their back, and pull their arms back so they can't move." This final move saw Dean's face pushed into the dirt with the angels boot digging into his back. Castiel was the only one who could hear 'son of a bitch' mumbled into the grass as he held the man immobile.

When Dean was finally able to get up, he quickly wiped the dirt off his face and wiped his tongue on his shirt. "Did you have to shove my face into the dirt?"

"It was part of the move I needed to show the class. We're not done yet." said Castiel, picking up the fallen sword and handing it back to Dean. "Now, I'm going to ask Freddie to try and attack me and I'll disarm him so you can see the moves how they need to be performed in real time. Okay, Freddie. Try and attack me." Castiel took a defensive stance with his wings flares out in a way that made it look like he was using them for balance. Not giving it a second thought, Dean charged with the blade, not intending to actually hurt him but hoping to at least tackle him.

Castiel was too quick and soon had Dean's arms above his head, the sword falling to the ground with a dull thud. This went on four more times until all the moves had been demonstrated and Dean was sweating and sore while Castiel was still calm and looking like he'd taken a stroll through the park. A remark of 'fucking angels' was said as Dean picked himself off the ground to dust himself off and roll his shoulders a bit. Castiel's voice faded into the background as he wandered off to the side so he could get some water and wipe his face off. 

"Too hard for you?" came the gravelly voice that he'd come to dread over the course of the day.

"No. Humans happen to need water when exercising. Am I allowed water?" said Dean, turning to Castiel with an eyebrow raised. He gestured to his cup before taking another sip from it.

"Don't be long." said Castiel before heading back over to the group to supervise until Dean joined him again.

Dean took his sweet time walking over there again, not looking forward to having his ass kicked by the angel. He knew it was going to only get worse when he was actively trying to attack him and have it be repeated over and over again. That didn't mean Dean wouldn't try. A mantra of 'I am a soldier' was playing in his head and ramping up his determination again. He could do this, Castiel was just one angel.

Stepping up to the part of the practice field that Castiel had set aside for the two of them, Dean saw the angel get into a defensive position in preparation for his attack. At the angels call of 'begin', Dean ran at him and was promptly knocked to the ground. This continued on until, for some reason, he heard his fathers voice in his head saying a phrase he'd made sure Dean had known from a young age. 'Work smarter, not harder.' had been the motto of John Winchester because of the fact that he had a weak heart. While grooming Dean to be an alpha he'd also been trying to teach him to go by that phrase. Dean honestly hadn't thought about it in years, not since his father's death. The fact that it was coming to him now was strange but it was the best time for it to happen.

With this new plan in mind, Dean pulled himself up from the ground and wiped his face off with his already damp shirt. "Just give me a second." As he stood there panting, he let his eyes dart over his opponents body. He had to think of this in a very utilitarian way. He was in training, the person in front of him was no longer someone he had been in camp with for six months but was now an opponent to be defeated. Emotions, even frustration and anger, couldn't interfere here. He needed to focus if he wanted to have any hope in reaching his goal.

His eyes fixed on the black wings and a light bulb went off in his head. Of course, the wings would be the angel's weak spot. He used them in every part of his life, he even used them for balance when walking. If they were disabled then so was he. If Dean could get to the wings then the angel was disarmed. Screw using the moves he'd been taught, he was going to use his own way. He was sure that when he was in the real war things wouldn't follow a script so it was better to learn how to improvise now.

"Okay, I'm ready." said Dean, his voice slightly ragged from breathing so hard. Castiel turned away from watching the other soldiers and looked at him before providing a nod. "Very good. Let's start again. Hopefully you can actually succeed this time." There was definitely a hint of condescension to his voice that made Dean's temper flare. That same force that had reminded him of his fathers words, though, reminded him that he needed to let go of his emotions for him to be successful here. Keeping a level head was essential.

The 'fight' started and Dean didn't immediately attack like he had all the other times which he could tell threw Castiel for a loop. Instead, he started to do a sort of circling in move on Castiel with his focus appearing to be on the sword when in reality most of it was on the shiny black wings just a foot or two behind it. Dean could see that Castiel was humoring him with the circling, thinking he was going to lunge for the sword in a predictable move that he'd be able to counter as effortlessly as he'd countered all of Dean's other attempts. Once Dean felt everything was set up just right for his plan, he lunged but went past the sword and tangled his fingers in black feathers.

The element of surprise helped him to get a hold of the other wing and he was yanking them back and knocking Castiel to the ground. His foot went between Castiel's shoulder blades and stayed there while the enraged angel growled into the dirt. Once Dean felt the angel stop struggling, he removed his foot and let the wings go. The normally pristine feathers were a tangled mess where Dean's fingers had been, a dark gray downy layer shown where some feathers were overturned. Nothing appeared to be damaged, though. They just looked like a mess.

Castiel got to his feet quickly and brushed the dirt off his face, an almost murderous look in his eye that was directed right at Dean. Suddenly Dean's accomplishment didn't feel all that great anymore when it looked like he was going to be smote in heaven itself. That feeling only increased as Castiel stalked towards Dean before stopping right in front of him, their faces less than an inch apart.

"What was that? What makes you think you have the right to touch my wings?" demanded Castiel, the wings themselves now attempting to puff up despite the many displaced feathers.

"Because, the exercise was to disarm my opponent and that's what I did. I looked for a weak spot and yours happens to be your wings. If you haven't noticed, all of us are training for war. I doubt a demon is going to ask if you're okay with touching your wings before they rip them off." said Dean, his chest puffing out in equal measure to the messy wings.

"Exercises are over for the day." said Castiel before walking off and disappearing to who knows where.


	6. A New Perspective

When the camp started up the next morning, Dean expected everyone to be brought to the pillars like usual as their starting exercise. Instead, the giant structures that had occupied their line of sight throughout the camp were gone when he walked outside. The area where they had stood was completely unmarked and it was as if nothing had been there in the first place. There were whispers among the alpha's until they saw Castiel come outside and stand in front of them. 

"You are all probably wondering why the pillars are missing. Well, I've decided that since everyone has made it to the top that we can move on to a new exercise." said Castiel, his gaze wandering over to Dean for a few seconds before he looked at the alpha's as a whole again. "Follow me."

Dean fell into step with his peers and followed the angel who's wings seemed to be extra neat today. It looked like he had taken time to put every single feather in place and to shine them as well. The only reason Dean noticed was because of the stark contrast from yesterday when he'd used those very same wings to restrain the angel. The wings looking as good as they did was almost like the angel was sending him a silent 'fuck you' for messing them up.

Dean's attention was pulled from the wings when they reached the place Castiel was leading them to. It was an obstacle course but was unlike any he'd seen on Earth mostly because it appeared that if you messed up on this one, you died. Several comments of 'fuck' and 'shit' were let out as the alpha's stared at the course with wide eyes, making it obvious that none of them felt prepared to go over that. The course was weaved into the landscape and the pits you had to make it over were filled with fire, spikes, and animals respectively.

Castiel must be out of his mind to think they could tackle this right now, Dean thought. They'd all die today.

"Now, at the end of year 3 I expect all of you to be able to go through this course without making one mistake. This first year is to teach you basics and next year will be starting you on a non-lethal version of this course before putting you on this one. Every time that you go on this course could be your last, remember that. These are the conditions you will see in war and that is what I will prepare you for. This is your new goal. From here on out, no more safety nets and no more second chances. Anything less than a broken bone won't be attended to by the healers. This is still only part of your training. There is more to learn than just how to simply avoid death, after all." said Castiel, his eyes scanning over everyone. Even the biggest of the alpha's seemed to shrink under his sharp gaze which was almost unheard of. This guy really had power and it wasn't just physical, it came from inside of him.

"So...what's the new exercise?" asked a nameless alpha, breaking the silence that had fallen over everyone after Castiel had stopped speaking.

"The new exercise was putting things in perspective for those of you who had grown too comfortable here." said Castiel, his eyes going to a few people in particular before landing on Dean last.

 The day was spent going through muscle building exercises. Castiel was extra harsh on Dean's form on each new exercise they went into, making sure he was just right even though he could see others getting away with small mistakes. It annoyed him but he kept his mouth shut, wanting to stick it through the camp as long as he had to. If that meant suffering through Castiel being an ass then he would do just that. His muscles burned and sweat dripped off his body but he kept on, wanting to prove that he would not be broken by one nitpicking angel.

Later, after dinner, when everyone was full and heading back to their cabins, Dean hesitated on his path. On a last minute decision he turned and just walked towards the training fields. He didn't plan on exercising more, he didn't think his body was capable of letting him, but he didn't feel like going back to his cabin just yet. If he could get away with it, he wanted just a few minutes to himself to look at the stars. Everything looked so real out here that it was easy to forget that they were in heaven and not on Earth. Still, the fact that there was never a cloud in the sky and the stars were spread out in a vast expanse every night did point to some sort of utopia though.

When he got out to the field, he laid down on the grass and folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the sky. The stars blinked back at him and a soft breeze blew past to ruffle his hair a bit. The noises of the camp were behind him so it felt peaceful. His eyes started to try and find the constellations he'd always been able to on Earth and found he couldn't. Here, in heaven, these stars were simply a backdrop. They'd stuck a bunch of twinkling lights against a black background and put it above them. He couldn't find a constellation because there was no rhyme or reason to how these stars were placed. They were just there to look pretty. "Great." Feeling defeated, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the grass, his fingers digging in the dirt as he tried to calm himself down.

Dean was just starting to feel himself relax behind his closed eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. They stopped a few feet away from him and Dean didn't bother to check who was standing behind him, he didn't have to. He could just feel that Castiel was the one who had made the trek outside of camp to get him. Not having it in him right now to throw out a smart ass comment, he instead opted for silence as he hid behind the darkness of his closed eyes.

"You do realize you're supposed to be in bed by now." came the gravelly voice he'd grown accustomed to over the months.

"I realize." said Dean who still made no move to get up off the grass.

More silence hung in between them before Dean heard the footsteps move closer. For a brief second, Dean thought Castiel was going to drag him back to the camp. Instead, the angel settled next to him and sat down but at a distance from what he could hear. While Dean was surprised that Castiel wasn't ordering him back to camp, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The angel may be a pain in his ass but he was easier to handle than the young alphas were at times.

"What brought you out here?" asked Castiel after a few minutes.

"I wanted to be alone." said Dean with a small shrug.

"I thought humans generally lived in packs." said Castiel with a bit of confusion laced in his voice.

A surprised laugh ripped itself from Dean's chest and he sat up. It took him a minute before he could get himself under enough control to look over at Castiel with a slightly composed expression.

"Packs? What, do you think we just run around in big groups like higher functioning wild animals?" asked Dean with an eyebrow raised. He waited for a few moments for Castiel to dispute his claim and when he didn't, Dean could only laugh more. "Oh, wow. They've really kept you guys sheltered up here. No, we don't live in packs, dumbass. We have societies and civilizations just like you do."

"Oh, my apologies. My only real contact with humans has been the young alpha's I've had to train. I've never had any trips to Earth since the war began." said Castiel, looking away from Dean sharply out of embarrassment.

Dean shook his head and waved him off before laying back down on the grass, a smile now present on his face. He probably hadn't smiled since he got here and it had been even longer since he'd had an honest laugh. It felt good to have an emotion peak through the haze he'd been living in, something to give him a small moment of clarity even though he knew it wouldn't last long. Likely he'd just fall into the monotony of being a soldier again soon, his mind going numb with duty and getting through each day.

"You guys messed up the stars." said Dean with a small hesitation. He didn't know if the angels were touchy about how they created things, if they considered whatever they made to be perfect since that's the standard they held themselves to.

"Pardon?" said Castiel, turning his head to Dean. His eyebrows were slightly raised in shock and a touch of disbelief was in his voice like he couldn't comprehend Dean even considering to say such a thing.

"You guys messed up the stars. When you made this camp, you just splattered the stars on your sky. They look like the stars you can see from Earth but there's no order. These are just thrown together. You can't make the constellations." said Dean, looking at the disorganized cluster of twinkling lights above him. It was pretty but it just felt wrong and alien to him because of the disorganization it held.

"Constellations?" asked Castiel, his head now turned fully towards Dean to the point that it was touching the grass. Bits of it would end up caught in his hair when he righted his head but he didn't seem to care.

"Yeah, constellations. Star patterns. The big and little dipper, Ursa major and Ursa minor, Orion's belt. The stars tell stories in the patterns they hold. That's not something you can just splatter on and say 'good enough.'" said Dean, hoping he was getting something through to the angel who seemed to think in terms of efficiency and war. "I'm gonna turn in for the night. I'll see you in the morning."

Dean got off the ground with a grunt and headed back to the camp, ignoring the fact that grass was stuck to his entire back. He'd get it once he was back to his cabin and could shake his clothes off.

 Castiel hesitated to follow his charge, instead opting to look at the sky above him. The longer he looked, the more clearly he could see the chaos the young man had described. There was no rhyme or reason to the stars and they clashed in a very unpleasant way. He averted his eyes and instead looked down at the ground and saw his hands clutching at the grass. Slowly, he dug his fingers into the ground until he felt the soil and then he curled them before swiftly bringing them up again.

When he saw his hands, they were covered in brown dirt and roots from the grass he'd gripped from the ground. Being an angel, though, a product of heaven, he could feel the falseness in what he was holding. He knew none of it was real, that it was all just an illusion, a very lifelike illusion, that heaven had created as the camp to house and train the alpha's in. As he thought this, the dirt and grass in his hands turned to a white powder and he let it fall through his fingers. 

For the first time he could feel himself wanting to touch something outside of heaven or hell, something that didn't have to do with war. He wanted to touch grass and dirt that didn't dissolve into fine powder once he concentrated too much on the fact that it wasn't real. 

He wanted to be on Earth.


	7. Numbing

The first year came to close with Dean right in line with all the other soldiers. Castiel had stopped riding his ass every exercise and had gone back to leading the group as a whole, satisfied that Dean no longer needed one on one care. Still, he wasn't given much time to revel in his achievement before the next phase of their training was being implemented. Like Castiel had told them 6 months prior, they would now be preparing for the lethal obstacle course by first going over one that, at most, would break bones but couldn't kill them. They would be required to use all they'd learned up to this point to complete it and this was supposedly the easy version.

They were armed with a gun, knives, and an angel blade. The weapons were all stashed strategically on their persons and within easy reach. The easy version of the obstacle course was more of a maze meant to test endurance, speed, fighting skills, and how they responded to fear. They had been told time and time again that nothing in there could kill them but that once they stepped in, they had to make it out on their own. Severe injuries, like broken bones, would be attended to after exiting. This was to psychologically numb them while also heightening their reflexes. They had to know what war was like.

While Dean no longer hid at the back of lines he didn't put himself first to enter this thing. From the expressions on his fellow soldiers faces, no one was eager to rush in there. By now, the glamour of war that they'd been painted had worn off completely and they were left with the cold truth of it. There was nothing shiny about what they were doing. They spent their days working their asses off and were now about to be psychologically scarred all for the cause of war. They were going to find out why the veterans refused to talk about what happened at the camps. This was probably when the horrors started for them.

The first guy to go in was silent for ten minutes before screams were heard. There were gunshots and you could hear the heavy sound of footsteps all the way outside. Everyone was silent with blank looks on their faces. No one knew what to do or say as they waited for him to come out. Finally, after a half hour, he came stumbling out of the other side of the course. His hair was wild and his clothes were slightly torn. Most notable, though, were the tear tracks down his face and how swollen and red his eyes were. His hands were balled into fists, one around his gun and the other around his blade. All Castiel did was take his weapons from him before sending him to a first aid kit and telling him to get a shower.

This pattern repeated, more young men coming out of this maze until it was time for Dean to enter. Dean didn't know what they were seeing in there but he was about to find out. He didn't want to come out a crying mess but that seemed to be what he was doomed to. Setting his jaw, he stepped forward and crossed the entrance into the maze. It was dimly lit in there despite not having a roof, probably another manipulation from heaven. 

Everything was quiet but he knew that wouldn't last long so he drew his gun. A gun was something he was familiar with. His father had taught him how to shoot young, telling him it was a valuable skill to have. It was the one thing at this camp that he'd immediately excelled in and pride had swelled in his chest to know that he was good at something for once. That would have to come in handy now in this place that had wrecked the six guys before him.

He was walking through and watching his back, trying to keep an eye on all points, when he started hearing footsteps. He wasn't alone in here. Immediately, he stopped and listened for them. If he could find who was making them then maybe he could catch that thing before it caught him and messed with his mind. 

It was as he was thinking this that the footsteps started again and he followed them. He was getting close, he was narrowing in, he was....at a dead end. Sighing, he let his arms fall and turned back around to met by more emptiness. So far, there weren't many obstacles in this so called obstacle course.

The footsteps steps started again and he went back into hunting mode, not wanting to be jumped by whatever was in here. Right now, they were in a cat and mouse game and it was obvious that Dean was the mouse right now. Somehow, Dean had to make it so that he was the cat so he could get out of here with some of his sanity. 

This dance of sorts continued for a while, longer than it had with the others. It seemed this thing was toying with him, boxing him in. The closer Dean seemed to get to this thing, the more on edge he felt and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The footsteps gradually grew louder and he could smell what he thought was sulfur. Bits of yellow dust started to appear randomly but also in time with the steps. Deep down he knew he was being led to this thing but he also knew he wouldn't get out of here unless he faced it. He couldn't spend the rest of his time hiding in some dark corner out of fear.

The smell grew stronger, the yellow dust thicker, before it all stopped. Dean's heart was beating out of his chest now and he had his gun raised and clutched tightly, him moving around in a circle so he wouldn't be caught off guard. None of that helped because right when he felt like he was going to pass out from the anticipation of what was to come, a man with yellow eyes appeared right in front of him. Without thinking, Dean fired off a shot but the man only flinched and that was most likely from the impact only.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. You finally made it. Let's see what's lurking around in that head of yours." said the man before placing both hands on Dean's head.

Horrible images swam through Dean's mind. The fire that started in his house when he was four took a much different turn. This time he was seeing his mom on the ceiling and watching as she was burned alive, the flames slowly eating away at her flesh while her screams rang out. He saw his dad finding out he was an omega and disowning him, saying he was a disgrace to the family and he better not show his face in that neighborhood again. He saw Sam going off to war and being tortured by whatever horrible beasts waited out there for him because he wasn't strong enough.

Distantly, the sound of screaming reached his ears. It took him a while to realize the screams were his own. When he did, he snapped back to reality and jumped away from the man and broke his hold on his head. Dean didn't think with what he did next, he just acted. He punched and kicked and felt himself bring out the blade. It sunk into the creature and he didn't stop stabbing until he felt like his arms were going to fall off. An orange light flickered in the creatures body before dying out and Dean's hands hung by his sides. 

Numb, Dean worked his way out of the maze and squeezed his eyes shut when the sun hit his face. It stung, him being able to see it even through his eyelids and the heat hit his skin hard after the cool feeling of the maze. Slowly, he walked back to the others with the feeling of the blade digging into his skin being the only thing keeping him grounded. He could feel blood and guts soaked into his clothing and hair. drying on his skin to form a grisly red mask.

There were audible gasps when they saw him. Dean didn't look at anyone, just kept walking in the direction of the showers so he could get this mess off of his body. The only thing that stopped his movement was Castiel, the angel making him look him in the eye. There was a sadness in those eyes but Dean recoiled, not wanting to be anywhere near him. He'd known exactly what was inside that box and had sent all of them inside anyways.

"Don't touch me. Also, your lesson is essentially over. I killed the fucking bastard. Have fun finding a new way to psychologically scar the others." said Dean before walking off again.

Castiel was left looking after him before addressing the rest of his charges. "You're dismissed for the rest of the day."


	8. Silence

Dean doesn't speak for a while after being sent into the maze, his coping mechanism for seeing all those horrible things just being silence. Benny doesn't push him to talk, instead just living with him as normal and communicating with body language rather than words. The system starts out a bit jerky as they try to work out how to fully communicate in silence but when they work it out, it becomes fluid. Others notice Dean's silence but they don't push him to talk, either. The six others who had gone into the maze before him dealt with what they saw in their own way. For the time being, they all continued on with normal exercises with Castiel telling them they were doing a renovation on the maze. Dean took that to mean they were going to be putting another monster in there.

Dean avoided having any one on one interaction with Castiel until one day when he was headed back to his cabin during recreation time. The angel stepped into his path and Dean dug his heels into the ground so he wouldn't collide with the body in front of him. When Dean was sure he'd gotten to a full stop, he took a few steps back and crossed his arms with a guarded look on his face. No smart ass comments came out of his mouth. This time, he simply looked at the angel with a tense posture, making it obvious that he wanted to be anywhere but in the angel's presence.

"Freddie, are you doing okay? I've noticed that you've failed to verbally communicate since your first try at the obstacle course." said Castiel, having to force himself to say the words in a professional manner. The true name of the place Dean had been sent into was left unsaid though they both knew what it was. It was a torture chamber meant to break their minds so they became completely obedient and pliant for the cause they'd been sent there for.

Dean continued to keep eye contact with Castiel but didn't say anything still. His tongue stayed still in his mouth and his lips refused to form any words. This continued on for a few more minutes before he saw Castiel raising his hand, two fingers pressed together with their destination seeming to be his forehead. Dean's eyes widened and he jerked away like a wounded animal who was afraid of being hurt again. Now on the defensive, he got around Castiel and made a beeline for his cabin.

Once inside, he slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor. His heart was beating fast like it was going to shoot out of his chest and he felt scared. No one could touch his head, that was how he would see those horrible things again.

He retreated into his mind for solace, only coming out when he felt something pushing against his back. A few more pushes and a distant voice calling his name made him slide to the side just enough for the door to open. When it did, he saw Benny nearly stumble in from how hard he'd been pushing at the door. After his roommate got his footing back, he closed the door and saw his friend slumped against the wall like a child in timeout.

"Dean? What's going on, brother?" asked Benny, dropping the laundry bag down he'd brought with him.

Dean just shook his head and gathered his legs closer to him. Benny was the only one in this camp he trusted enough to be seen like this. He knew his friend wouldn't think less of him for having this mental breakdown, just like he didn't think less of him for being an omega. Benny was like a brother. While he'd told himself going into this thing that he wouldn't get attached to anyone, he'd gotten attached to Benny and knew that once they were really out there that he would be watching out for this guy.

Benny sighed and walked over to his side of the cabin with his laundry before grabbing one of the things he'd intentionally left behind. He tossed it to Dean and watched as it landed on his lap. "There. Your emotions are wearing at the alpha scent mask you have going on. Don't need anyone finding out." Benny was as bad with in depth emotions as Dean, at least verbally, so he showed that he cared through actions like throwing a dirty shirt so you didn't get discovered as an omega in a camp full of alpha's.

 When the maze is ready to go again, Dean is told he'll be the last to go in. The angels higher up don't want him ending things before everyone can get through them this time. Also, his venture will be altered from the others. Apparently he's the lucky bastard to get a few surprises. So, that's how he comes to be held at the back of the line by two nondescript angels as young alpha after young alpha went into the maze for their torture session. Screams could be heard from outside and they were more intense than last time. 

Castiel avoided eye contact as Dean stepped up to the entrance for his turn, his wings touching the ground in a sad display. The nonverbal apology had no affect on Dean as he walked through the entrance to the dimly lit maze. He pulled his blade out of his jacket, not bothering with his gun this time. He'd learned last time that it had no affect on the first monster he'd faced so there was no reason to think it would work now.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the limited light and his hearing heightened to compensate for the lack of visibility. He was turning a corner when a body hit him from the side and caused him to crash into the floor. A primitive snarl was heard but it was still human in nature. Without thinking, he threw a heavy punch and knocked the creature off of him. Quickly, he was on his feet and facing the thing that attacked him. It appeared to be human but its eyes were solid black and it appeared feral in nature. Knowing now that it was truly him or this creature, Dean didn't hesitate in fighting to kill.

The creature put up a big fight, landing several blows before Dean managed to sink his blade into its stomach. Orange light flickered from inside of it for a few seconds before it went limp and Dean knew it had died. Dean yanked his blade out and stepped over the body, knowing he needed to move on if he didn't want to be jumped immediately after this. It seemed the promise of nothing being able to kill him in this maze had been broken for him specifically.

As he made his way through things now, he was even more on alert. He didn't want to be caught off guard like that again. He'd gotten lucky by being able to fight that one thing off. If another one caught him by surprise then they could do some real damage or just kill him by snapping his neck, not even giving him time to put up a true fight. Those winged assholes had put all these things in here for him and he was going to get out of here alive, dammit.

Gradually, he took on more and more of them as he worked his way to the center of the maze. He knew that as he got closer to the heart of this thing that he was going on a mental suicide mission but that was the only way out of this thing. Hopefully he could kill this one just like he'd killed the last one. It would give him great joy to continually make them have to search for new things to put in here because he kept killing all of them.

When Dean reached the center, he was blood covered and his muscles were sore. He didn't care about any of that, though. He was about to meet the new mega monster so he had to be strong and not let the fact that he felt like shit get in the way of his goal which was killing this thing. After taking a few deep breaths, he stepped into the room to face the beast he'd slaughtered his way through twists and turns to get to.

 Dean didn't know what he'd expected to find when he found this thing but a man sharpening knives next to a metal table while singing 'I'm in heaven' certainly wasn't it. Still, Dean didn't let his guard down. That stuff had to be for show. The angels wouldn't let this thing strap him to a table and carve into him. This had to just be for shock effect. This guy would do what the other one did and show him his worst fears and that would be that.

Still, even as Dean told himself this he had his doubts. After all, Castiel had looked so regretful before sending Dean in here this time. Was this the reason? Was Dean going to be tortured within an inch of his life before being healed again just so they could get him in the right mindset? At this thought a shiver of fear ran down his spine but he continued forward anyways.

"Dean, good of you to join me." said the man in a nasally tone that set Dean's teeth on edge.

Dean held onto his silence, now not as a coping mechanism but because he didn't trust his own voice. He was afraid that if he tried to speak that all that would come out would be a squeak that would betray how absolutely scared he was right now. 

"Well, how about we get started." said the man who was now suddenly in front of him. There was a heavy blow to Dean's head before everything went black.


	9. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic depictions of violence in this chapter. If you feel you can't read that, I have prepared a brief summary of the chapter at the bottom for you to read instead.

When Dean woke up, there was a throbbing pain in his head and everything was foggy. As he blinked, the walls of the room slowly came into view as did the feeling of a cool metal against his back. Once he was fully awake, Dean could feel leather restraints around his wrists and ankles and a gag in his mouth. The man who he'd seen when he'd entered the room came into his field of vision with a nasty smile on his face with a knife in one hand and wearing an apron.

"Nice of you to join me, Dean. I found out a few interesting things about you while you were indisposed. And omega sneaking into an alpha camp? Never heard that one before. Tell me, were you that desperate for a knot?" said the man, dragging the point of his knife down lightly over Dean's torso to stop right over his groin.

Dean growled behind his gag, making noise for the first time since he'd made his first visit to the maze. He had a fiery glare fixed on the man and his struggles to get out of the restraints had started, his mind knowing where this was leading. No one had ever touched him there, hell, he hadn't even touched himself there. There was no way this...thing was going to do that to him. 

"Alas, I won't be able to sate what must be a burning need within you. You see, I like something much different. It's so much more satisfying to peel the body back layer by layer until you get to the bone only to do it all over again. That is my specialty." said the man, his knife now tracing patterns around Dean's unmarked skin.

Dean did his best to jerk away from the knife but couldn't do much given the fact that he was trapped. The bindings held tight and the table felt strong, the gag also not showing any signs of falling out of his mouth. Even if it did, he doubted anyone would respond to his calls for help. They'd put him in here for a reason, after all. He was the anomaly, the one they felt they had to put extra pressure on to be absolutely sure he was broken so they would have a docile creature to work with.

"Let's get started then." said the man, his face stretching into the most horrible grin Dean had ever seen in his life. He was barely given a second to process what this meant before the knife was digging into him and he could feel it twisting into his flesh.

Everything bled into one long feeling of pain after a while as Dean felt his skin sliced off, intestines ripped out and shoved down his throat, eyes forced out of their sockets so he was given a whole new view to his mutilated body. He was hacked away at until there was practically nothing, the question of how he was still alive not even registering through the haze of pain he was in. 

Then, just like that, he was whole again. No scratches were on him and the pain was gone. The physical pain, at least. Dean's mind was still reeling from what he had been forced through, thoughts crashing together and nothing making sense. He felt like a gibbering mess and it wasn't until the gag was taken out and the man was forcing him to pay attention that he came out of his haze.

"So, Dean, now that we've finished today's activities lets have a little chat. I think formal introductions are in order since we didn't get to that this morning. I'm Alistair, expert in torture." said the man as he danced the knife across Dean's skin, causing him to flinch.

Dean just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to remember how to use his voice properly. He remembered Alistair cutting his tongue out and eating it so that Dean could only make garbled moans, his ability to speak taken away. He shuddered a bit at the memory and tried to push it away, wanting to stay in the present though he suspected that wasn't much better.

"I'm going to give you an offer now. You can either stay on the table and continue to be tortured or you can get off that table now and help me break the others. Which will it be?" asked Alistair as he leaned against his cart of tools, apron soaked in blood.

Dean didn't have to think long about this one. He wasn't going to assist this monster in breaking others, in putting them through what just happened to him. He wasn't going to let himself turn into one of these monsters. Dean's eyes shined with an angry fire and he rose his head up as much as he could and shook his head.

"No, and you can take your offer and stick it where the sun don't shine." said Dean between gritted teeth, his throat a bit raw from screaming.

"I was hoping you'd say that. I get to try a few more things out then. You will say yes, though. They always do." said Alistair as he walked back to the cart. He picked up another tool of torture before stepping back over to Dean to start over again. Dean's defiant glare only stayed for a few seconds before his eyes were squeezed shut and he was gritting his teeth, not wanting to give this bastard the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Now that he knew what was on the line if he broke, he had something to hold on for.

Dean held on a long time but, like Alistair said, everyone eventually says yes. He said yes three months after he entered the maze. Each month felt like a decade, time seemingly altered in that space. When he got off that table, he was willing to do whatever it took to stay off of it. Something had just snapped in him and he knew there was no going back now. The darkness growing inside of him from snapping didn't even care about that. He was just so relieved to know he wouldn't be on that table that he would put anyone else there to make sure it wasn't him.

The next month, the next ten years for Dean, was spent breaking the other members of the camp. He did so with a dead look in his eyes, immune to their begging and calls of the fake name he'd given them. None of it mattered anymore. They were all going to die in the actual war anyways so what was some torture before hand? He was sure he was the only one who had been completely broken by it, though. The others always left with fear in their eyes still. Dean didn't have it in him to feel fear anymore.

The day he left the maze was done with little emotion. He was covered in blood and body matter since he'd long since stopped caring about being clean, his face expressionless. It was that of a man who had seen too much to even look defeated anymore. Sunlight felt odd on his skin since he'd spent the last four months in shade and coolness. The heat quickly caused him to smell but he just kept walking like he was completely unaware of his odor.

None of his fellow soldiers would look at him and the small mental voice that had taken up residence in the back of his head couldn't blame them. He'd put them all through hell. He probably couldn't look at himself either. 

Before he could reach the showers, he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him and he tensed. When he turned around, he saw that it was Castiel who looked like he'd aged a great deal since Dean had entered the maze though that was impossible. Angels never aged, they were perfection in it's truest form, never giving to any force. Statues...they were living statues.

The second that thought crossed Dean's mind, his whole perception of Castiel changed. There was no possible way for this being to relate to anything but itself. It didn't have the capacity. Dean didn't have the capacity either anymore but he did at one time. This thing in front of him never possessed the ability in the first place and that made all the difference.

He couldn't trust it.

It wasn't like him.

It was the enemy.

Working on instinct rather than rational thought, like a predator moving in on its prey, he attacked the angel. A primitive growl ripped itself from his throat and he threw a punch that merely turned Castiel's head to the side but ended up breaking Dean's hand. The pain didn't stop Dean, though. He'd been through so much pain the past few months that a broken hand was nothing. Castiel didn't give him a chance to try, instead pressing two fingers to his temple and Dean fell to the ground.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is captured by Alistair and tortured for three months before being held for another month to torture his fellow soldiers. The goal of the torture is to completely break Dean so he won't be rebellious. There is emphasis on each month feeling like 10 years. When Dean gets out of the maze, he encounters Castiel and has an epiphany that the angel is ever more different from him than he originally thought. This sparks a rage in Dean and causes him to attack Castiel. Castiel's counter is to put Dean to sleep.


	10. Recovery

Dean came to slowly, light starting to filter through the lids of his eyes. It was dim and had a soft orange glow that felt warm. His eyes blinked open and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of one of the cabins, his muscles stiff. Out of habit, he went to stretch himself out but found that he was restrained. The feeling of the bindings brought everything that had happened to him in the past few months/years slamming back into him. Nothing in front of him was real anymore, it was all knives and blood and Alistair.

"Help! Somebody help me!" yelled Dean, fighting against the bindings as hard as he could. He could feel two of them start to give a bit and the bed was rocking from the force of his struggle. Once Dean felt the slight give in the bindings, he went into overdrive in trying to get out. The end result was the bed on its side with him awkwardly hanging off of it, tugging at it like an animal caught in a trap. "Sam!"

The door flew open but Dean was much too invested in fighting with the bed to pay attention to it. It wasn't until he felt a hand on him that he took his mind off his hopeless quest. The face he saw was Castiel's but it didn't conjure up quite the same anger as his last appearance did. Maybe it was just because he was too blind with panic right now. He needed to get out of this thing, he couldn't be trapped. When he was trapped, bad things happened. When bad things happened, he did bad things. He didn't want to do bad things again.

"Let me out, you son of a bitch. Let me out! Get this shit off me!" growled Dean. His demand came out more hysterical than intimidating, though. He was just so desperate. He needed to be free, he needed to be free, he needed to be free...

 Dean's heart continued to race as the bed was righted with him still firmly attached to it. It was all going to happen again. The binds would be tightened and the knives would come out. The blood would start pouring and he'd be forced to endure his body being taken apart again. It would go again and again until whatever was wanted this time was fulfilled before he had to do that to others. This pattern was just going to continue. He couldn't be free. There was just pain, blood, no free will...

He started to come out of his anxiety attack when he felt the bindings leave his wrists and ankles. He could move again, he was free. Quickly, he jumped up and ran to the other side of the room and stood against the corner. Nothing could sneak up on him and the whole room was open to his view. Best of all, the feeling of having a table underneath his back was gone and so were the thoughts of the maze. 

"I didn't realize you'd have such a strong reaction...I only did that so you wouldn't end up harming yourself." said Castiel by way of explanation. He stood up with both of his hands out in an attempt to calm down a wild animal. His wings were slightly raised and showed neither domination nor submission. For once, they just seemed to be there.

Dean openly stared at Castiel for a while from where he stood with his arms crossed. All his memories of Castiel were going through his head now but none of them were making sense. They were crashing together, everything seeming to run at once. Snippets were picked out here and there, an almost bugging sensation creeping up on him the longer he looked at the angel in front of him. There was something different now but he didn't know what that something was.

"When you came out of the maze, you weren't very human. The creature in there had put too much darkness into your soul. I took the liberty of brushing that away." said Castiel, bowing his head and averting his eyes like he was ashamed or embarrassed. "I couldn't do anything about the pain and memories, though. Angels can only heal so much."

Dean was about to say something when he felt an itching under his left sleeve. Furrowing his brow, he pulled it up and saw that there was a palm print branded onto his shoulder. When he touched it, he found that it didn't hurt so much as it itched except the itch wasn't one he could get with his nails. "What's this?"

"When I was healing your soul, I ended up accidentally branding your shoulder since that was my point of contact. My apologies." said Castiel as he looked away. He folded his hands together and kept his gaze firmly aimed at his feet.

"Can I leave this room or is this my new cell?" asked Dean as he eased his sleeve over his shoulder again. He was antsy to escape this box and be somewhere where there were no walls. Outside seemed like a good place to be. All that open space and nothing to constrict him. He could be free there and just be. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

"You can leave. Where would you like to go?" asked Castiel, looking up at him again. 

"Outside." was all Dean said before going to the door and walking out of the room. He quickly made his way out of the building and found that it was evening, a stark contrast from the harsh sunlight he'd entered previously. It was easier on his eyes and a warm, orange glow was draped over the camp. The air still felt warm from the day and everyone was bustling around like usual. A few people caught sight of him but, as soon as they did, they averted eye contact and practically ran out of sight. They were scared of him.

Trying his best not to remember the reason for that, he stepped further outside and felt the grass under his bare feet. He hadn't bothered with looking for shoes before he'd rushed out and right now he was glad. The grass was cool and soft under his feet and his toes curled into it every few steps. Dean was caught up in the feeling of the grass so much so that he didn't notice the person coming into his path so it was a shock when he collided with them. "Dammit." came out in a grunt as he fell to the ground before he was getting up and offering his hand to the person he'd knocked down. Instead of taking Dean's hand, though, the person just scrambled to their feet and ran off.

Dean watched their retreating figure and felt his heart settling against his stomach. "I'm a monster." Instead of the anger that would have boiled over before, an overwhelming feeling of depression took hold and he suddenly felt very alone. Everyone was scared of him and thought he was a monster. It didn't matter that he'd been forced to do all of those things or that he hated every slice he had to make. He was a monster to them now and there was no going back from that. The darkness that had taken hold of his soul may have been washed away but what was left behind was just as bad. It was a feeling of self hatred and deep, deep sorrow. Right now he almost wanted the anger back. At least that felt like fuel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Sorry this chapter is so short. I had writers block.


	11. Infiltrators

Dean did end up moving back into his cabin with Benny but things were different between them after the maze. He remembered when he'd had to put Benny down on the table. That was the one that stuck out in his mind the most and not for begging or violence. It was because of the silence he'd been met with. Benny had just kept eye contact with him as Dean had strapped him down, not opening his mouth to speak once. Everything was said with his eyes. They held a look of resignation but also of sadness and Dean had thrown up every emotional wall he could so he could keep going. He knew that if he stopped he would only end up on another table right beside him and he was too selfish, too consumed with his own need to escape pain that he was willing to hurt his friend if it meant staying on this side of the knife.

Now, instead of conversations and jokes at the end of a long day their cabin was filled with heavy silence. Dean found that he was unable to make eye contact with Benny because of the overwhelming shame he felt whenever he tried. Depression sunk its claws deeper and deeper into him, self loathing growing every day as well as a sense of paranoia that manifested itself in him being jumpy and unwilling to trust anyone. Like a good soldier, though, he went to training every day and did his best since he found that it calmed him. It eased his anxiety since he felt he could defend himself and it combated his depression because he was working towards repaying his debt. If he could be a hero, maybe it would balance out all the awful things he'd done in the maze.

Day after day, week after week and month after month he strove to do better than he had the day before and it showed in both his skills and appearance. It wasn't long before his skin that had been bordering on pale when he'd entered the camp had a golden tan and the small amount of muscle he'd maintained seemed to double in size. It changed how his clothes fit on him even and he found his chest flattening from the increased muscle and reduced body fat. Now, there was only the slightest droop and he was sure he could get away with having his shirt off. Still, he wasn't willing to risk it. However, it would be nice to workout without a shirt since his t-shirts normally got sweat soaked and felt gross on him.

These were the thoughts running through his head as he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom in just his sweatpants. It was the first time in he didn't know how long that he'd really looked at his chest and not felt disgusted. He could live with the slight droop, that wasn't nearly as bad as what he'd come in with. For once, his appearance matched how he felt inside. He could live with the rest of his anatomy if his outwards appearance looked like this. 

It's unfortunate he wasn't willing to make a change like this sooner. The one time he's happy with his appearance and he's in an army camp preparing to go to a war he most likely won't get out of alive.

"So, are you planning on staring at yourself all day or am I able to use the toilet?" came a familiar Louisiana accent.

Dean jumped slightly and turned to Benny. This was the first time Benny had joked with him since the maze. The expression on the alpha's face was uncertain, betraying how hesitant he was about initiating this.

"Oh, sorry. I'll get out of your way." said Dean before shuffling out of the bathroom to his side of the cabin. The fact that Benny had decided to joke with him sent a small spark of hope floating through his mind. Maybe this meant that all was not lost with them. It could be the first step to repairing things, the signal that said Benny was willing to move on from what had happened. Dean was more than ready to get his friend back if only to not be completely alone in the camp. Castiel had visited him a few times but that wasn't the same as having a friend. Still, the angel always looked like he wanted to get closer before he would just walk away.

The second year was drawing to a close and attitudes around the camp had shifted. The angels had reached their goal as far as how the alpha's were behaving and reacting to discipline. Even the most timid had hardened to follow orders exactly and without question. They were turning into weapons and their training was able to increase now that they were in the mindset of 'the end justify's the means.' Now, hurting each other in training was common place and many of them were starting to acquire scars since, again, the healers were only called forward for severe injuries. 

They got divided into groups for which of the two groups they would specialize in: Infantry combat or Infiltration. Infantry was another word for human fodder since they were the first to go into any situation and test the waters or were simply the first line of defense. The infiltration was better or worse depending on how you looked at it. They were the ones who were supposed to 'infiltrate' hell, hence their name. They were the main demon take down system, infantry handling the no names.

Dean was expecting to find himself lumped into the infantry category just because that seemed like where he belonged. He'd be the human fodder and would sacrifice himself in the war and have an honorable death, just like he'd been told his entire life. Being told he was in infiltration was enough to make him peak his head out of his haze and take a proper look at things. They were all divided up into their separate groups and he found Castiel standing in front of his.

"Now that we're on to more specialized training, we're bringing in another commander. Uriel is going to be handling the infantry group while you will still have me as your commander." said Castiel, his face as expressionless as ever. Everyone nodded their understanding, the need to verbally respond having left them a while ago. The camp was pretty silent these days since they were all focused on tasks rather than acting human.

"Very well. Let's begin."

Dean became even more of a weapon under Castiel's practiced hand. He learned strategy as well as perfecting his fighting skills and knowing how to handle angelic weapons. It was clear that he was the best out of his group and came to be Castiel's right hand man as time went on. Castiel would look to Dean to help the others in training and confer with him on where he thought they should move on to next. A professional friendship had formed between them with Castiel always looking like he wanted to get closer. Dean could feel a bit of that draw too but, whenever he focused on it, the image of Castiel letting him walk into the maze would appear and a wall would go up again.

The wall was once again up as he felt Castiel's hand on his forearm as he stood at the entrance to the obstacle course, this being his first time to go on it. It didn't appear nearly as scary as it had when he'd first saw it two years ago and he didn't know if that was because he was more skilled or because he felt slightly dead inside. He was the first one in his group to go on it since he was the most skilled. Castiel hadn't told him to go first, rather, Dean had volunteered since it seemed better to give the others an example.

"Freddie...you don't have to go on the course, you know. You've more than proven yourself." said Castiel. His voice was soft enough that they only just reached Dean's ears. 

"What?" asked Dean, twisting out of Castiel's hold in confusion.

"You don't have to go on the course. You've proven yourself to me already." said Castiel with a bit more conviction this time.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Cas, but I'm not joining in. I'm doing the course just like everyone else." said Dean before stepping up to the start. He took a knife out of his pocket and sliced his hand before writing a symbol on one of the rocks framing the entrance. There was shaking and the shifting of land heard before a dirt column was up high enough for Dean to step onto. Looking back, Dean gave Cas a slightly mocking salute as he crossed the line of no return. "See you on the other side, commander."


	12. Finely Tuned Weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait. I've had writers block and been super busy with college. Here you go, hope you like. :D

The obstacle course was every bit as bad as he had been told with monsters and what Dean was sure was real hell fire. Halfway through he was covered in dirt and sweat, gashes and at least two broken ribs but he wasn't stopping. If he stopped, he died and he wasn't dying in this thing. It was awful and the physically worst thing he'd faced but he would be damned if this was how he was going to go down. While things seemed to be in a lull for a moment, he hid away in some bushes to catch his breath. The crude, axe like weapon in his hand was gripped tightly and his eyes remained wide open. You couldn't afford to close your eyes for a second, you could barely afford to blink.

The pain in his ribs was becoming more apparent and he knew he had to move on. The faster he got through this thing the faster he could get to a healer and a shower. Civilization seemed like a distant thought, though, his mind reduced to his most basic instincts for survival. While this course was pushing his body to the limits, it felt cleansing for his mind. Here, he didn't have to think. His body took over and did what it knew how to do. There was something pure about being reduced to your primary being and to have most, if not all, higher thinking lifted from your mind.

This feeling of purity stayed with him until he came to a spot where he saw a blinding blue light which he figured was the way out. Still holding tight to his weapon since he didn't want to chance a monster jumping him on the climb up, he clawed his way up the rocks and gritted his teeth through the pain of his ribs and the scabs ripping open from his gashes. He was almost there, he was almost there, he was...

Dean found himself laying on soft grass with sunlight burning his eyes. It was a drastic change from the grayish fogginess he'd gotten used to in the place below. He squeezed his eyes shut and shielded his face before attempting to roll on his side and curl up in the fetal position. He just wanted to be alone in a dark room while under a lot of blankets and sleep for a long time. Nothing felt real except for the solid grip of the weapon in his hand the pain of the injuries on his body.

The pain went away a few minutes later when he felt two fingers pressed to his forehead. He knew then that it wasn’t one of the healers since they liked to inspect everything first. When the fingers left, the spot that was touched felt a bit colder with their absence. It was a strange feeling but Dean didn’t have the capacity to contemplate on what that meant.

The fact that he wasn’t feeling pain for the first time in he didn’t know how long was foreign in and of itself. It left a hole in him since one of his constant emotions and feelings was gone. The pain was horrible and at times it made him throw up but it was there and it kept him focused. While in the course, it had become a companion of sorts. Now he was alone again.

The same hand that had just healed him then lifted him to his feet and supported him towards the showers. The sun hardened the mud against his skin and his sweat dried, leaving him feeling trapped in his skin. His tongue snuck out to wet his lips in an attempt to soothe over the cuts. All that succeeded in doing, however, was angering them and making them feel that much more raw.

Hot water was welcome and Dean spent close to an hour scrubbing his skin clean. Even after all of the dirt was off of him he still felt dirty, like a part of that place was now embedded into him. He knew he couldn’t stay in the water forever, though, so he finally turned it off and stepped out to dry off. A new set of clothes was laid out for him and he knew immediately who had brought them because a few faded black feathers dusted the floor.

More and more of his group went through the course and, just like with the maze, they all came out differently. You could see it from the look in their eyes. There seemed to be a disconnect of some sort for a lot of the alpha’s. This was furthered by two having not made it through the course, their bodies consumed by the monsters within it and no one being told what happened to their soul.

Dean was still powering through with single minded determination. The fourth year was soon to start and he was becoming even more of a weapon. He thought in strategy and his personality seemed to be virtually gone. He no longer made smart ass comments or made references that some people would get depending on where they were from. Now, he always had a look of intense focus and was more likely to address you with body language than words.

Heaven had done it. He was no longer the Dean Winchester who had come here so his brother wouldn’t have to fight in a bloody war. Now, he was a finely tuned weapon that only had a little bit of time left before he was set loose on the world.


	13. Shockwave

Dean was laying back in bed when a huge shock wave went through heaven. The loud clap of thunder like noise was the only warning he had before everything in the camp was leveled. When it was over, he found himself buried under layers of his cabin as he tried to find a way out. An air pocket surrounded him but when he tried to move the materials, nothing would budge. It was all too heavy and he just had to hope someone would discover him. The next thing that crossed his mind was if Benny had survived the cabin collapsing. 

"Benny? Benny!" Dean's voice was hoarse as he shouted into the building material around him. Some of it was pressing down on his chest and making it hard to breathe but it wasn't life threatening. He knew he shouldn't spend his energy yelling since that would only make his situation worse. Right now, he could only hope for the best for his friend.

Dean didn't know how much time passed, it could have been minutes or hours, but the rubble over him finally began to shift. The weight lifted off of his chest and he was finally able to assist in removing himself from the destruction. Two fingers pressed themselves to his forehead before he had the chance to feel any pain, the injuries caused by the shock wave gone before Dean could take stock of them. Looking around, Dean took in the sight of the rest of the camp. Everything was destroyed and his fellow soldiers were both dazed and confused.

More shifting was heard from the other side of the wreck and Dean turned just in time to see Benny pulled out of the destruction. Dean was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he noticed that Benny was limp and his body was far too limp for him to be alive. He looked like everything inside of him was broken and the only thing holding him together was his skin. Without thinking, Dean pushed Castiel out of the way and took Benny into his arms as he sunk down onto the grass. 

"No, Benny, no. Come on, you can still be alive. Just hang on and you can be healed. Wake up you son of a bitch." said Dean, tears starting to roll down his face. He looked back at Castiel as he clutched Benny's body tighter to himself. "What are you waiting for? Heal him, goddammit! Fix him!" His head whipped around to Benny's and he saw his friends eyes blinking brief and this lit a small spark of hope in his chest. "Benny, you're alive. Come on, buddy. Hang on. They can heal you. You just have to hang on."

"See you on the other side, brother."

That was the last thing Benny said before he passed away. When he truly became dead weight in Dean's arms, he nearly collapsed over the body. It was the heaviest thing he would ever hold in his life. Dean buried his face in Benny's neck and cried for the loss of his friend and the loss of the closest thing to family he'd had in this place. 

Dean didn't know where Benny's body was taken, just that the angels took care of it. They had more important issues at hand, like what caused the shock waves, than paying special attention to a lone soldiers body. To keep himself from either breaking down or trying to murder the angels, he stuffed everything down in a box and locked it away. The only way he would be able to get through any more days now was to bury everything as far down as he could. 

A decision about their next move was made surprisingly fast and the remaining alpha's that survived the shock wave were gathered in front of Zachariah, Castiel and Uriel standing slightly behind him. While Uriel looked passive as ever, Castiel was glancing around nervously which led Dean to believe he either didn't know what was going on or he didn't like what was about to happen. He had his money on the latter given the angels history.

"Greetings, everyone. As you know, heaven was recently attacked which has forced us to make a move we wouldn't ordinarily do. You guys will be going to war a year early. You'll be handed your uniforms and set out. Heaven needs you, boys. Don't let us down." said Zachariah, trying his best to motivate everything. All he succeeded in doing for Dean was making a chill run down his spine.

Dean got into his uniform that he filled out perfectly at this point, the heavy material not weighing him down at all. Weapons were slid into various compartments and he stood with his unit in front of his commander. His face was free of expression but his heart was racing. They were finally doing it, they were going to war. This was where shit got real. He'd be fighting the worst monsters that could possibly exist and he didn't know if he wanted to live through it with those memories or be put out of his misery while dying a hero. 

All of them marched right up to heavens gate and when Dean looked through it, he nearly shit his pants. On the other side was swarms of black smoke but that wasn't what had him so scared. It was the deformed creatures that you could just make out through the smoke. They were grotesque and worse than any horror movie you could imagine. The sounds they made were the very essence of suffering and anger. This was what nightmares were truly made out of.

Before Dean could ask if they were going to have to fight that wall of pure awfulness, a storm started to brew above their heads. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed before a full blast of power focused itself entirely on the creatures blocking their way. Their screeches clawed at the insides of Dean's ears, the sound only seeming to move into his brain when he covered his ears with his hands. Silence came suddenly and the creatures were gone. It was time to step outside of heaven and go find their first battle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, got a question for any writers out there who might be interested in co-authoring. I'm working on a large, non-Destiel Supernatural writing project and I would like some help with it. If you're interested, my tumblr is eternallyfrustratedwriter.


	14. The War Starts

The gates of heaven opened and the army of alpha's stepped outside for the first time in 4 years. They stayed together for the first part of their journey, the two commanders heading them as they walked to the very edge. The edge didn't immediately cross over to hell like some of the alpha's had speculated. Instead, there was a wasteland that stretched for miles before them. It was filled with death and the smell of rot, a low level fog covering it that was just thick enough to cloud your vision. If you were to focus enough you could see various shapes floating through the fog with no particular destination in mind.

"What is this place?" 

"Purgatory, also known as limbo. It's where the souls of people who aren't bad enough for hell but aren't good enough for heaven go to pay penance." said Castiel as he stared straight ahead. "The souls aren't dangerous but be careful not to let them attach to you. They will attempt to take your happiness as a way to relieve their own misery." 

Dean nodded before stepping forward with the others. In an effort to not lose anyone, they all joined hands and continued onward. The souls passed over them, attempting to grasp onto them and take what they could. When this happened, Castiel and Uriel would utter a spell to banish them but it would only work for so long. Dean used mind-blocking techniques he'd learned in the camp to keep the souls out as an added measure. 

Limbo seemed to stretch on forever but the smell of brimstone and fire was their first signal that hell was close by. They could see smoke through the fog and the terrain turned black and rocky. The fog cleared and they were able to see for the first time since leaving heaven. The fog of limbo seemed preferable to what greeted them, though. Black mountains rose up before them with fire and volcanoes dotting the landscape. Screams and cries of sorrow were everywhere, the smell of burning flesh intense enough to make you gag uncontrollably if you had a weak stomach.

No one had to be told that this was hell. 

The two groups, the infiltrators and the infantry, split up at this point. Dean watched his peers walk off with Commander Uriel, knowing he wouldn't be seeing any of them again. The angel might make it out but those boys had no chance. They were just human fodder in this war after all. How long they lasted depended on how competent a leader Uriel proved to be. Dean was hoping at least a few of them made it out but that was a foolish hope. They were headed into the thick of things. No one got out of that, not that he'd heard of anyways.

"Move out." said Castiel, his voice firm as he looked over his charges.

Dean snapped to attention, his body going into the motions it had learned over his 4 years of training. Everything he had learned, everything that had been drilled into him, took over as he went into soldier mode. With his fellow soldiers he marched along the difficult terrain, climbing up hills without complaint and whenever they ran into a meaningless demon, he would kill it without breaking a sweat. He'd trained too long and hard to make rookie mistakes now that they were in the real thing.

Their camp stops were few and far between, only coming when they absolutely needed it. They were all aware that resting in this plane was near suicidal so they tried to do it as little as possible. Dean's senses were hypersensitive, going off at the tiniest sound. There were multiple instances where he almost attacked fellow soldiers under the assumption they were enemies because of his paranoia. No one could get mad at him, though, because of the situation they were in. Another reason was because his hair trigger senses had saved their hides plenty of times in this place where things jumped out at you at the worst of times.

"Castiel, what's going on with you?" asked Dean, noticing that the angel was looking less angelic the deeper into hell they got.

"This place....the unholiness of it is taking a toll on my grace. I'm cut off from the host this far in." said Castiel, flapping his wings in an attempt to get some of the soot off of them. The normally black, almost blue color was now a dark gray from all the falling dust and it weighed them down significantly. He'd stopped trying to fly weeks ago since all it did was stir up dust and they couldn't afford to waste water on cleaning his wings up.

Dean simply nodded and the group continued on, getting deeper into hell. It was beginning to almost feel like they were walking in place when Dean heard Castiel cry out in pain, clutching his head. With wide eyes, Dean rushed forward to catch him and held him until he was able to stand on his own again. Everyone huddled around the pair, worried about what had just happened to their commander.

"Yelling in my head....It was Uriel. He needs help. He told me to meet him at the fifth level of hell to help him with his battle." said Castiel as he rubbed his temples like he was trying to dispel a migraine.

"What level are we on now, commander?" asked an alpha who's name Dean vaguely remembered being Asa. 

"We're on the third level. We've been moving slowly because I've been wanting to keep our location secret. We'll have to go a main way now, though, if we want to reach Uriel in time to...." said Castiel, leaving the rest of his sentence unfinished. It didn't matter, though. They all knew what he meant to say. In time to make sure that he wasn't killed, that they all weren't killed. 

Hell started to really live up to its name when they got deeper into it as well as going where the action was. Dean lost count of the amount of racks he had to walk by, all with souls strapped to them in various states of torture. They were all calling out for salvation, mostly to Castiel since he was angel. While Dean knew they had all done something to end up here he couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor bastards. An eternity of being torn apart and it could never end because they weren't hacking away at a body, they were hacking away at your soul before putting you back together again when they were done for the day. They only stopped when you turned into a demon but sometimes not even then seeing as how he could see a few demons still strapped to racks, screaming about how they'd already paid their dues. If this was just the fifth level, he really was not looking forward to the seventh level.

When they arrived to the supposed battle area, there was no battle. Instead, everything was leveled and abandoned. The group stopped in front of it and just stood there in shock, not knowing what to make of the sight in front of them. Castiel was the first one to speak.

"I don't understand...Uriel should have been here...they all should have been here..." The angel hesitantly stepped forward while looking around with disbelief on his face. "Search for survivors!" It was a command with not real heat behind it. No survivors could be here but they had to look at least.

Dean walked forward and began looking around until he spotted something on the ground. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was a picture of someone's family with the edges burned. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he held the photo to his chest for a few seconds until a fellow soldier made a discovery. Quickly, he pocketed the photo and walked over to see what had been found. However, when he did, he wished he'd ignored it. 

Spread over a drop off was the infantry, all of them maimed and some dismembered. It was clear they'd fought hard but they'd been no match for their enemy. Then, in the middle, was their commander spread eagle. His sword was in his chest and his burned wings were spread out on either side of him. His eyes were open in death, staring up at the sky with surprise. While Dean had never particularly liked Uriel, he didn't deserve to die this way.

"No...." was all Castiel said as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from his troops, not wanting them to see him cry. A moment of silence was held for their fallen brothers before Castiel was able to face them again. "The quickest way to the center of hell is through that mountain pass. We need to move out now and accomplish what no one before us has been able to do. You boys need to make me proud. Now, move out."


	15. The Last Stand

The trek to the center of hell was long even with the shortcut through the mountain pass. None of them spoke a word the entire time, nonverbal signals being used instead to communicate. While Dean could rationalize in his mind that it was safer to not talk he knew that the true reason they were silent was because none of them knew what to say. They'd just witnessed the carnage of their comrades in what was, presumably, their only battle. This told them they had only one shot at this and since they were going all in, it was either end the war or die trying.

Already Dean was saying a silent goodbye to his mom and brother in his head. While a tiny part of him hoped they could succeed and actually be the ones to finish this, the part of him that was more realistic was making peace with the fact that he probably only had a few more hours to live. They were nearing their destination and a feeling of nausea was welling up inside of him. He was prepared to die, he would do it with honor, but the fact that the moment was here was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Castiel held a hand up to stop them when they reached the mouth of a large cave. It was dimly lit inside and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd say the very rocks were breathing like it was alive. Nothing was stopping them from walking in and everything was quiet. This was the first time things had been silent since he'd been in Hell and it wasn't sitting right with him. The absence of the screams for salvation had his ears ringing and his mouth going into a hard line. His fellow soldiers had the same feeling of uneasiness but they continued into the cave anyways. 

Their footsteps echoed off the walls and the deeper they went, the more Dean could swear he heard the cave breathing. Every so often, out of the corner of his eye, he would see the walls ripple, almost like flesh, but once he focused on them they would look just like stone again. The thought of them walking into the mouth of some monster crossed his mind and he wondered if they would be swallowed any time soon.

"Ah, a new group of challengers has arrived. How wonderful."

The voice seemed to come from all around them, making them freeze where they stood. They all looked around to locate the speaker, swords drawn and wrapped in a protective circle so that no ones back was exposed. The monster was revealing itself to them so the fight would start soon. Despite the solid expression on Dean's face, his heart was beating out of his chest and he was scared out of his mind. This thing was invisible, he had never prepared for anything invisible. 

Then, all at once, they were assaulted with a storm of black smoke that blocked their vision and tore at their bodies. Dean could feel it ripping open his skin, blood soaking through his clothes and making him clench his teeth. He dared not open his mouth for fear it would fly into him and destroy him from the inside out. Just as he was sure it was going to be the thing to end them all, a bright light flashed and a small circle of safety was formed around his group. When he opened his eyes, he could see that a few of his group members hadn't been as lucky as him and were laying dead on the ground. Now wasn't the time to grieve for them, though. He had work to do. 

"I'll hold them off! I'll hold them all off!" yelled Castiel, standing straighter with his palm held out and his wings spread wide. With the glowing blue eyes and faint outline of a halo completing the image, he truly looked angelic in that moment. Dean was awestruck for a few seconds before tuning back into the situation at hand. Even with Castiel creating this force field they had minutes at most. Someone had to break through this hellish smoke to get to the cause of it.

"I'm going in! Just protect them!" yelled Dean, barely able to be heard over the roar of the storm around them.

Castiel's head whipped over to look at Dean and the force field wavered slightly before regaining its strength. "Freddie, no! You'll be destroyed out there! It's too dangerous!"

"We're sitting ducks in here! This is our only time to get this chance! If not, we're just another failed unit! I'm sorry but I have to!" yelled Dean before turning towards the storm and diving in.

It hurt, oh fuck did it hurt. Everything felt like it was tearing him apart but he didn't stop, wouldn't stop, no matter how bad it got. He just kept his eyes closed and mouth shut while trudging forward, hoping he was going towards the back of the cave. 

Once out, he took a huge gulp of air and wiped away the blood that had started to drip over his eyes. Looking up, he saw a woman in a white dress with matching white eyes mumbling what had to be a spell. That was the monster causing all of this. He killed that, this war was over. With a clenched jaw he bounded up the stone steps towards her, planning on just knifing her quickly. The noise of his boots against the stone, however, knocked her out of her trance and she turned her focus on him.

A glare settled on her face with a smirk rising from her mouth. Dean felt enormous pain running through him, the kind that makes you want to curl up in a ball and beg for death. There was a time not too long ago he would have done just that but he was past that. This close to the end, nothing, not even mind numbing pain, would stop him from ending the thing that had been ruling his life for however long now. He'd honestly lost track of time but it didn't matter. It was about to be over.

"Why isn't it working on you?" yelled the demon in frustration.

"Oh, it's working. I feel like every bone in my body is breaking over and over again. I'm just this stubborn." said Dean before sinking his blade into her.

The demon flung her body back and let out a piercing scream before exploding in a combination of flesh and orange light. When the coast seemed to be clear, Dean fell to his knees with the sound of footsteps in the background. The last thing he heard before passing out was Castiel calling out the fake name he'd given him at the start of training camp.


	16. Redemption

When Dean woke up, he had bandages wrapped all around his body and his head was pounding. He could feel a pillow beneath his head and a blanket on top of him but that was about it other than a pair of underwear. Slowly, his eyes blinked open and things came into focus. His environment seemed to be that of a makeshift tent at the edge of Heaven, he could see the gates through the opening, and his comrades were trying to subtly look inside while failing horribly in their attempts. 

Groaning, he sat up as much as he could and looked around the tent to see his clothes folded in the corner with his boots placed neatly beside them. His sword was clean and laying a small distance away, just out of his reach. He instinctively leaned over to get it but when he stretched his injuries protested and he groaned out in pain. The noise garnered the attention of someone outside and they walked in and closed the flaps of the tent behind them. 

Dean was laying back and catching his breath when he noticed that it had gotten darker in the tent. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Castiel staring down at him with a passive face, wings folded neatly behind him. They stayed staring at each other for a long time before Castiel broke the silence with the question Dean hoped would never be asked.

"Who are you really?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat and for a while he couldn't speak. So many answers ran through his head but each one felt wrong. Who he was when he came here was not who he was now. He didn't even know who he was anymore. However, he needed to give an answer or the angry angel would surely pull one out of him.

"My name is Dean."

"You're a traitor." said Castiel with disgust in his voice. He straightened up and stormed out of the tent. It was obvious he couldn't stand to even look at Dean.

A sharp feeling of anger shot through Dean but he got up despite the pain it caused with his injuries. With the blanket wrapped around himself, he stepped outside of the tent and quickly made his way towards Castiel until he was blocking his path. His shoulders stood broad and the look in his eyes said he wasn't playing games.

"No, my name is Dean. I enlisted to save my brother. I just saved everyone's life and ended a fucking war. My fucking body parts have nothing to do with that and the sooner you can see past your prejudices, the better off you'll be." growled out Dean. This was the most emotion Dean had shown in a long time and you could see tears pricking the corners of his eyes from it. "Call me a traitor all you want but don't deny the fact that if it wasn't for me, you and everyone else here would be dead."

Dean stepped back and faced his commander even as a tear ran down the side of his face with the force of his anger. Again, they looked at each other for a long time before Castiel simply pushed past him. The angels decision had been made and Dean could see that he was not included in it. Fine, he'd find his own way home. He was more than ready to be back on Earth anyways. He'd had enough of the other realms and their torture. 

His troop marched off and disappeared behind the gates of heaven, the soldiers sparing him one last glance before the gates closed with a sense of finality. Dean simply gave them a nod to let them know that he'd be okay. After all, he'd been through so much worse that being stranded on the edge of Heaven felt like a vacation at this point. Knowing he needed to rest, Dean went back inside the tent and laid down and fell asleep.

The thing to wake him up was a giant wind that caused his tent to collapse. Sitting up, he crawled out of the collapsed fabric and pulled out his clothes and sword. Quickly, he got dressed and hid his weapon, all the while looking around for the threat. When he saw it, his eyes went wide. It was the biggest demon he had ever seen and it was headed straight for Heaven. While he hated the majority of angels, he couldn't let his team die and he certainly couldn't let this thing win after they'd all worked so hard and thought they'd finally succeeded.

The gates of Heaven, though, were locked from the inside and he didn't have a key. That was when he remembered that his sword was made from the same material that the gates were made from. Having an idea, he took his sword out and started sawing at a bar. Amazingly enough, it worked and he soon had two broken which was just enough room for him to get inside. The angels could yell at him for destruction of property later, he was sure the gates were reparable. Right? Right.

Clearing his head, he went over the loose map Castiel had drawn of Heaven for them during one of their nights in Hell. He'd said that all celebrations were done in the center where a big temple was built and whenever something worthy of notice happened, it was acknowledged there. All of the angels thinking a commander and his troops ended the war was certainly worth noticing so that was where they would be. Also, Heaven apparently wasn't as huge as everyone thought. It was made up of 7 gardens and the temple while the rest of the space was used for souls. It turns out that the training camp used for the alpha's was actually a borrowed Heaven which sucked for the soul who was supposed to have eternal happiness there.

This was working in Dean's favor at the moment since that meant that he just had to run down the path that cut through Heave that led to the temple. 

Pain seared through him every time his body turned as he prepared for a new stride. He was sure Castiel could have fully healed him since he was right next to Heaven. Leaving him injured was probably a punishment of sorts. The bandages wrapped around him were certainly restricting and he was hoping it wouldn't interfere with his ability to fight since taking down this motherfucker would take all of them. 

The first sign that he was close to the temple was the mass of wings that greeted him. They were all folded behind their owners, bottom feathers gently resting against the ground. His stomping footsteps weren't acknowledged, it was like they were all in a complete trance even though there was nothing in front of them to focus on. He'd have to get through all of these fluffy, winged dicks to get to the temple. Angels were practically concrete pillars so just shoving his way through wasn't an option. Shock factor it is.

"Make way for the hero's of Heaven!" yelled Dean, cupping his hands in front of his mouth like a megaphone. Gasps were heard and the angels collectively turned around before making a path. Not waiting for them to examine things too closely, Dean continued down at a quick pace without making eye contact with anyone. Mumbling swept through the crowd as they wondered where the others were since, surely, there wasn't just one. 

He crossed over into the temple when one of the angels started to protest that he didn't have the right to be in there. He swallowed his urge to yell "fuck you" to whoever it was in favor of finding his fellow soldiers and Castiel. 

The temple opened up into a big room that was framed with many windows. There was a fountain in the middle as well as a giant statue at the very back, presumably for worship. By the statue he could see what was left of his group kneeling before the statue with Castiel in the middle. He didn't know what this statue represented and couldn't give a rats ass. The only good thing about it at the moment was that it was keeping all of them in one place so that he didn't have to look too far.

"Cas! Castiel! You have to listen to me." said Dean, panting as he tried to catch his breath. The group that had been peacefully kneeling before the statue tensed before looking over at him. The angel in particular turned around and raised his wings in a dominance display.

"I don't know how you got in but you need to leave. You don't belong here, Dean." growled Castiel, his feathers fluffing up. His eyes glowed faintly blue and you could feel a slight vibration in the air.

"You don't understand. The war isn't over. Whatever I killed, it isn't the only monster. The big one is headed over here right now and we're all in deep shit if you don't pull your head out of your ass." said Dean, bumping chests with the angel. This was a risky move but it had to be made to prove how serious he was. His own dominance displays had to be even more direct now that it was known he was an omega. If they were subtle, he wouldn't be taken seriously.

"How can I believe you?" 

"Why else would I come back here? It's not like you're rolling out the welcome wagon for me."

Those words barely left his mouth when the temple started to shake violently. Cracks started to form on the ceiling before making their way down the walls, stone crumbling along the way.

"It's here."


	17. Homecoming

Dean didn't bother trying to convince Castiel further since he could feel the structure starting to crumble around him. If the angel wanted to be stupid and die under the stones than that was his choice to make. The dust and stray pebbles from the collapse flew by Dean, clouding his vision and making it momentarily hard for him to breathe. When the air was clear, he could see that the once proud temple was now just a heap of rubble and the angels were standing around it in shock. A few glared over at Dean, thinking that this was somehow his fault because he ran inside when he wasn't supposed to.

Not much time was given to mourn the loss of the temple, though, because what Dean could only assume was an angel landed on the rubble, crushing it to dust. Its form was unlike any other angel he'd seen thus far, being twice the size of the biggest skyscraper with multiple heads and wings that looked like they spanned the length of a football field. Dean could feel his eyes hurting just looking at this brilliant being, a feeling reminiscent of staring at the sun too long, and he had to look away.

"It's Michael..." came a familiar, gravelly voice a few feet away from Dean. When Dean turned his head, he could see Castiel staring up at the other angel in wonder and awe. 

"Wait, you mean like the archangel Michael?" asked Dean, swallowing the newly formed lump in his throat and taking a step back. With Castiel's nod confirming his question, he could feel a whole new level of fear rising up within him. If the archangel Michael was here, shit was about to go down and it was going to go down hard.

The demon who had destroyed the temple chose that moment to show up, landing in front of Michael and taking on a fighting stance. All the angels immediately started to scatter, apparently able to recognize who this thing was at first glance even though Dean was still in the dark here. If they were running, though, it was probably a good idea that he run too. The first blow was exchanged between the two combatants as Dean was heading for one of the gardens, the only other places available in Heaven to hide in. 

A shock wave was sent through Heaven and Dean was knocked off his feet, causing him to face plant into the ground. The shock wave was followed by a bright flash of light before the fighting started up again. Explosions could be heard all around and Dean wasn't sure he was going to get out of this with his hearing intact. His existence was narrowed down to surviving and trying to not get crushed underneath any of the falling debris. At times it seemed like Heaven was going to collapse in on itself from the destruction he could see the fight causing.

When everything was finally over, Dean was huddled in between a fallen tree and the remains of a statue. His hands were wrapped around his head and he was curled into the fetal position, his eyes squeezed shut, hardly aware of his soft mantra of "please be over." The silence took a while to get through to him but when it did, he would swear it was the loudest thing he ever heard. His ears rang with the lack of sound as he crawled out of his hiding place to survey the damage and see what was left of Heaven.

The garden he'd taken refuge in was a mess with trees uprooted and land ripped apart, statues shattered and flowers obliterated. There was a burnt wing impression off to the side and he kept his eyes firmly away from that, not wanting to see who it was for fear it was the one angel he knew. Things didn't look too much better outside of the garden with more burnt wing impressions laying around, angels staring up at the sky of heaven with their swords gripped in their hands.

With every dead angel he saw, more guilt ripped through him. They'd stayed to help fight and he'd just ran and taken cover. He was a trained soldier and he'd hidden himself like he was a small child who was afraid of the monster under his bed.

Tears clouded his vision and his legs started to wobble. He only made it a few more steps before he sank to his knees and just cried. This went on for a few minutes before a strong hand laid itself on his shoulder and he felt a surge of warmth flow through him, healing every injury he'd sustained. Hesitantly, he looked over his shoulder and saw Castiel standing there with a cut up wing but otherwise no worse for wear.

"You did good, Dean."

The next few hours went by in a blur for Dean as he was briefed with the three remaining members of his troop how they'd acclimate back to Earth again. They were supposed to get help with jobs and therapy and all that jazz. Honestly, Dean just wanted to take a long nap and if he didn't wake up, well, he wouldn't exactly be opposed to that. He didn't voice this to anyone though, not wanting anything to delay him from getting home. It had been too long since he'd seen his mom and Sam. They'd gone on with their lives while he'd been in war and he wondered if they still thought about him after this long. There would be a lot of catching up to do and Sam would really, truly be a man now.

It was all too much and he was finding that he was getting light headed as he neared the portal to Earth. A hand on his shoulder grounded him, though, and slowed his mind enough to where he could think straight again. Looking to the side, he saw that Castiel was standing right next to him with his newly bandaged wing hanging down which looked a bit funny.

"Are you coming along?" asked Dean, his head tilting towards the portal a bit.

"I can. If you want me to, that is." said Castiel, his face looking serious as he avoided eye contact with Dean.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

The train ride back to the city was silent with everyone spread out. Dean tried not to think about when he first stepped on with all the eager, fresh faced alpha's ready to go to war with no idea what they were stepping into. There were just three of them left out of the 100 that had originally been recruited. The number was pitiful and showed just how much destruction things like this caused. He hoped there was never another war ever again and if there was, he'd be at the front of the lines to protest it.

When the train stopped, it took Dean a while to actually get up from his seat. His family, supposedly, was at the platform waiting for him. He hadn't seen them in nearly 10 years when he'd sneaked out to impersonate a soldier so Sam wouldn't have to go to war. Eventually, though, Castiel was able to coax him out of his seat and he slowly made his way out of the train. His head stayed down, eyes fixed firmly on the concrete as he still didn't feel ready to see the family he'd said goodbye to nearly 10 years ago.

"Dean!"

Dean looked up on instinct in response to his name though he didn't recognize the booming voice. When he saw who it belong to, his eyes widened and he took a step back because surely that couldn't be his little brother. Sam was gangly and skinny, not a muscular giant with a mess of hair who was in need of a shave. The hurt puppy dog look the man gave him at being rejected, though, was all Sam and Dean relaxed before going forward to hug him.

"Sammy."

"I've missed you so much, Dean."

"I missed you too. Hey, I want you to mee..." said Dean, turning around to introduce Castiel but seeing that the angel was gone. His shoulders sagged and he sighed.

"Meet who?" asked Sam, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nobody. Where's mom?"

"At home making sure all your favorite foods are ready. Don't worry, she didn't forget the pie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already planning on writing a sequel so don't get your panties in a bunch that there wasn't a lot of Destiel in this one.


End file.
